


good girl

by maniachx



Series: good girl [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Ending, Before Battle, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Death Eater - Freeform, Death Eaters, Dom Lucius Malfoy, F/M, Good Draco Malfoy, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Seventh Year, Minor Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Multi, Top Lucius Malfoy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:02:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 30,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28125804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maniachx/pseuds/maniachx
Summary: A story in which the freshly turned Death Eater of Hogwarts is misbehaving under mister Malfoy's supervision.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s), Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy/Original Female Character(s), Luna Lovegood/Theodore Nott, Severus Snape/Original Female Character(s)
Series: good girl [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2060463
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26





	1. Alana

**Author's Note:**

> i literally have no clue how to use AO3, this is my first time writing on this platform but hello

TW: mentions of abuse, and a continuous appearance of e*ting disorders.

Alana. Al, Ally, Lana. She had been welcomed with wide open arms into the house of the Serpents during the year of 1991, and proudly spoken about by her professor and supervisors during the attended years.

The girl was a charm for sure, one that enchanted each pair of eyes when she walked by and left behind this immaculate yet stained fragrance of abandonment, sorrow and lonliness; and she carried around a pair of eyes of her own that you couldn't look at directly, for they screamed of hatred and anger and were able to vanish each bit of emotion inside your soul. And her smile... Every smile that lit up her features was the wrong sort. It's like she ran on cold malice instead of any form of genuine affection. Perhaps she was a baby that was left to cry, or a personality disorder the doctors couldn't fix. Either way she had as much empathy as a medieval mace.

Her face had glued to it a mask of emptiness and nothingness - and when she did in fact show emotion, it was never one to fit the situation, fact that frightened people around her the most. When everyone was in pain, she was the one to smile, and when everyone was joyful she was the one to be miserable. She had creepy airs hanging loosely off her skeleton shoulders, and she was the exact embodiment of a nasty which - not by having greasy hair, a big nose, nor a broomstick she'd always carry, yet due to her braids that seemed to be having so much life yet to be hiding deathly secrets, as they'd always say, the volume in them counted all the lives she had taken. And there was something about her skin, a dark chocolate tone but with such paleness that she seemed to be a rotting corpse. The witch was always gossiped of yet no one ever talked to her in person.

A crazy bitch who never eats. 

I heard she set her house on fire, which is why they moved her here.

Heartless slut.

And not to mention the insults regarding her mental health, the ones that triggered her less. They talked about how she had a split brain and couldn't function like other kids - especially when she was little and liked school more than others, she had this inclination towards Transfiguration and Potions and was never to be found anywhere else than the library during the nights.

The girl dressed neatly as her parents taught her. She wore black, pleated skirts, white turtlenecks and dark green sweaters knitted by the latest fashion designers in the U.K. She liked to walk around with her hips swinging, and she liked to let people know how determined she was to get to her destination, whether it was only the bathroom or the Great Hall - everyone knew when she was coming.

And there were girls envying her, the way her skirts clung to her big hips and her abdoment was flat enough that she never had to worry about her posture being seen from the side - they envied her for the woman that hid in that girl's body, the confidence that radiated through her flawless, chocolate skin and sparkled in the sunlight with shades of blue and purple. She had this energy that flew out of her like dandelion seeds, or like a disease. It spread quickly and attacked vigurously, leaving everyone damaged and cheerless.

Nobody but herself knew of the traumatising youth she'd had. She tried pushing her memories aside as time went by... Second year, third year, fourth year. In fifth year she was declared the most mischievous and misbehaving Prefect of all times, for she'd been hexing her classmates for disobeying her and teaching first year's how to perform unforgivable curses on animals that were lost from the grounds of the Forbidden Forest.

Her fifth year was the year she was punished most for. 

But each year she'd test her parents' capabilities and behave worse than the other, curious of how far her mother and father would go with the punishments. They varied from leaving her to starve for weeks, which she was used to from refusing to eat at all, anyway, to spending cold winter nights in the backyard without any blankets. They refused to let her get used to the feeling of richness and being spoilt, so the money they gave her meant nothing due to the harsh ways they had of abusing her, physically and mentally.

Neither Professors, nor students knew. It was kept inside the manor's walls that the child was being traumatised as each day passed, but what had awoken the curiosity in her classmates most was why she would return Hogwarts skinnier every year and with so much hair on the nape of her neck; little did they know that was the way her organism coped with the lack of meat and warmth inside of her body. They were freaked out by how proeminend her cheekbones were and how easily they could see her spine when she'd bend over to tie her shoelaces - she looked dead compared to other girls her age who would be flawless and curvy.

She did not mind not being an object in boys' eyes. The last thing she wanted was to be aware of hard dicks around her, or to know how dirty boys' thoughts were when she walked past them. She wanted none of that, because she was already used to feeling dirty. 

The way her mind coped with things impressed everyone, including her parents, classmates and professors. She had a way of memorising pages of books in less than five seconds and had the bizarre ability of writing faster than any other kid her age. She knew spells perfeclty after only minutes of reciting and practicing, and brewed potions that other would brew in days, except she brewed them in minutes. Snape himself was curious of how she did it, because no other student has ever satisfied the man the way that young lady did. She was the first to put the potion on her desk, perfectly brewed and smelling exactly the way the books had described. 

She was not to receive any lower grades than the predictable oustanding, not ever, had never been late for class, had never missed one course and always attended the Great Hall on time for her Headmaster's speeches. 

Though she hated the man, she respected him entirely, even if she made sure to leave her mark on the school he was practically Lord of. He saw in her the exact same things other people did, and was at his time, just a little bit terrified of her.


	2. Draco

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! thank you for reading my story. it's also on wattpad @ maniachx!

Draco Malfoy. 

Alana's parents mentioned him quite a few times before the girl attended her first year at Hogwarts and she knew just how valuable and important he was in the Wizarding World, for his parents were working for the Ministry of Magic and were very well known as one of the wealthiest and respected family from their times.

She said nothing mean to him, nor started any friendly conversation whatsoever. They looked at each other in pure ignorance and lack of interest, for neither of them was scared or intimidated by the other. Malfoy himself was a pretty peculiar son of a gun; his hair was always greasy and slicked back, revealing his big, white forehead, and his eyes were of a bizarre shade of grey, like concrete, or a post-apocalyptic polluted sky, filled with heavy clouds of chemicals and viruses.

His milk skin was dotted with cinammon dust and rose petals stood instead of his lips, thinly and quitely. He had a jaw so sharp it turned every girl's head, except for Alana. She kept being unbothered nor excited about his presence, and lacked the interest of spaking a conversation with the blondie, for he seemed nothing else than basic and a wannabe bad boy.

He noticed that she was so ignorant against him, so the testosterone in his body pushed him to the involuntary act of pushing her into a wall and calling her a slut one Saturday evening. 

The girl simply frowned, a little confused but still unbothered. "You piece of shit," said him without remorse, only because he felt as if he were disrespeted by her, and no woman was to conquere or top him. His eyes screamed with dread and hatred towards the girl, her feminine plump lips and superior, clenched jaw triggering something in Draco that he's never seen before.

She acted like she was better than him. 

Though she kept quiet, Alana felt like saying multiple things to the twink in front of her eyes, from how his hair smells like piss and his breath stinks of rotten rabit meat, only her lips kept pursed, knowing how anything she'd say would affect her parents' relationship with the Malfoys. Draco muttered a few more insults under his breath before leaving the witch in distress. 

Later that day, an owl came back to the Malfoy Manor, reading how disrespectful and disgusting the Malfoy child had behaved, and that he had been witnessed by a painting of a girl who was, at the time, playing with her long, brown hair. 

Mister Malfoy spit the food in his mouth all over Narcissa's black night gown, now mashed potaoes mixed with tomatoes and beef accesorizing her sexy outfit just splendidly. The father burnt the end of his cigar and put it between his lips as he recited the following words to his house elf so that they could write it down a piece of new parchment:

Son,

You are expected at the Ivanov Manor in no longer than 24 hours to apologize to Miss Ivanov, respectfully and emotionally. Wear this, and give them this.

After the words were written, Narcissa was ordered to cook her best dark chocolate cake that would later be sent to Draco and given to the Ivanov's. He hated the idea, Lucius, of asking for forgiveness, but the Ivanov family was a fairly important piece of his puzzle. Neither Draco, nor Narcissa understood why.

By the time the cake arrived, Draco had also unpacket the suit his father sent him. Full black, as if he was attending this lady's funeral. But without a second thought, he waited for the first Monday of the winter break to come, put his costume on and found a way to reach the people's manor.

It was completely secluded by population, as Draco apparated somewhere in the middle of this sea of tall, dark trees, not lit by any source of natural, nor artificial light. There weren't streetlights, nor streets of any kind - Only a gothic manor half the size of the Malfoy Manor, just as dark as the deserted forest, and completely swallowed up by nature, with poison ivy and wild white flowers covering its brick walls and windows, and though there seemed to be little life inside the house, it still pumped smoke through the horn, quite heavy one he must add.

There weren't streetlights, nor streets of any kind - Only a gothic manor half the size of the Malfoy Manor, just as dark as the deserted forest, and completely swallowed up by nature, with poison ivy and wild white flowers covering its brick wal... 

Even though there didn't seem to be anyone living inside, and Draco had no idea if anyone did because he'd never visited the Ivanov's before, the tall boy approached the pathway leading to the house's big and dark wooden doors that were scratch...  
Even though there didn't seem to be anyone living inside, and Draco had no idea if anyone did because he'd never visited the Ivanov's before, the tall boy approached the pathway leading to the house's big and dark wooden doors that were scratched by cats and wild animals at the very bottom, and the handle seemed to be rotting. 

The boy frowned, then proceeded to knock. After doing so, he made sure to hold the cake perfectly in his left hand, having the other one adjusting the collar of his black shit neatly. Keeping his chin up, he decided to knock again, but no response.

Out of curiosity, he found himself pressing his small, cold ear against the icy door, expecting to hear music, or a television, yet instead the sound of glass hitting the ground and a woman's shouting fill the house. It was odd. He could only hear it perfectly when his ear was pressed against the door, yet when he'd withdraw his body... It seemed as if the house was soundproof.

The boy pushed himself to press hardly onto the creaky doorknob, it opening itself due to the strong winter wind, letting in snowflakes and the whistling weather. Draco stepped inside rather quickly so not any more noise would be done by him, yet there was nothing but noise filling the entire house. 

Glasses being thrown, chairs being broken, televisions turned to the max, plates, picture frames, everything to be found was at Draco's feet as he furrowed his eyebrows together, immediately placing the cake on a piece of furniture closest to himself, then looking around to search for where all the noise was coming from.

The living room. He would recognize the face of the girl from a thousand miles away - skinny jawline, proeminent cheekbones, those narrowed eyes and chapped lips and she looked ten minutes away from dying; except this time, she was indeed a few moments away from dying. There was blood dripping from her nose, her left eye purple and swollen, and Draco swore he could see pieces of glass pushed into the fragile skin of her palms and even toes, her knees also bleeding, as she held up a painting to defend herself from a tall, monstruous-looking figure that held in his hands a huge flower vase. 

The boy felt not only confused as if to why any of this was happening, but disgusted by the smell of blood and the sight of it, and right when he used his magic to call for the Ministry of Magic, the flower vase broke into the poor witch's face, her mother right behind her, herself hit with tiny pieces of glasses. But the girl's jaw was no longer in its place, now chunks of blood falling out of her mouth as Alana tries catching it in her palm, one tooth falling onto her shaky limb and tears drooling down her face. 

The Ministry responded rather quickly, for a call from a Malfoy himself had never been done before, and the Ivanov family was disturbed, their heads turned to the now seven people entering their home with their wands raised and eyes widened in shock. The house seemed to be upside down, televisions and chandeliers thrown on the marble floors, and pieces of glass deep into everyone's feet and palms, as Alana was the one with the most bruises on her body.

Muggle fighting was something aurors almost never dealt with, for most unforgivable curses saved them from all the blood and missing teeth, which is why everyone froze at first at the very view of the three Ivanov's fighting for their lives against each other. 

"Step away from her right now!" A colorful head of a woman stepped in front of Bash Ivanov, Alana's father, and with the help of her wand, she got rid of his, making sure he's unarmed right away then pressing his cheek against the brick wall of the chimney. He gave up fighting against her when he realized he had no chance of escaping her grip.

"What's going on?" Narcissa Malfoy and her husband were called as an emergency as the Ministry found the caller to be Draco himself, so they rapidly grabbed their son by his shoulders and forced him a few steps back.

"Did they hurt you, Draco?" asked Lucius in a panicked manner, his voice trembling and platinum, iced hair melting down onto his sweaty, red skin. The boy said nothing, but only looked down at the two women sitting on the floor, completely damaged by the intoxicated-looking man. The older woman had a big piece of glass cut through her left cheek, her eyes bloodshot and tearful.

Alana looked up at Draco, hoping this time he wouldn't be a hipocrite. "No-" But she was so confused, where the hell did they appear from? And how did they find them? "They didn't, father. But he was hurting her-" 

"Nymphadora, take him," another weirdly looking man stepped forward, and he presented himself afterwards. "Miss Ivanov," he tightened the space between himself and the student, "I am Auror Shacklebolt," he put his wand away and drew his hand towards the damaged girl, probably wishing to shake hers, but then he realized how poor and disoriented she was, with blood all over her face and her eyes nearly open.

Her mother was taken by no other than Auror Moody just the same way as the father. He spit towards her, ruthlessly, "Do you identify yourself as Ilinka Ivanov?" 

The woman had blood spread on her cheeks belonging to anyone but herself, and her spiteful, merciless eyes were glued to the daughter. "Get your bloody eyes off of her and answer me," The words made Alana's out-of-place-jaw clench, and she fell to her knees immediately due to how painful it was to lack so many bones and one tooth. Lucius and Shacklebolt hurried to pick her up, and they both held onto her like she was a broken toy, disgusting Draco to his core. 

"Yes, I do."

"Is this your daughter, Alana Ivanov?" 

They turned their heads from the woman to the girl, and saw the blood on her dress and the undone braids, chunks of hair missing from her bloody scalp as she held her fist tightly and kept her arms wrapped around Auror Shacklebolt's neck. The two men rested the girl down onto the messy couch, the woman with colored hair leading the kid's father outside with his hand glued to one another with a spell. 

Draco's eyes followed everyone and no one, his only concern being the girl that looked ugly on the couch, missing teeth and all. "Is she going to be alright?"

Auror Moody rushed Ilinka outside along with the father, now only the Minister of Magic - Mister Rufus Scrimgeour, the Malfoy's and Auror Shacklebolt present in the broken home. Lucius seemed to be eyeing the Minister oddly, but perhaps Alana's fucked up eyes probably played tricks on her.

"She will," said Kinglsey, leaning down to the girl and pressing his big palm onto her forehead, feeling the high temperature of her scattered, permanently scarred skin. "Not soon, but she will. Alana Ivanov. Daughter of ex-Auror Bash Ivanov." 

Narcissa's eyes drooled with tears and her make-up was messed up at the sight of the poor girl, with the broken bones and everything. "Why did they do this to her?" Narcissa asked herself loudly, Lucius' eyes now wandering off to the girl's covered body as well, only her face showing and tears falling down her burning cheeks. 

She had her eyes open, and she looked straight to Lucius, then to Narcissa and Malfoy, blaming them. 

"You took my family away from me," cried Alana, unconsciously, and it confused the Malfoy's even more. How could she say that, when Draco practically saved her from dying?

"Shush, little girl, you'll be alright." She wasn't, but Auror Shacklebolt's tone and manner seemed reassuringly kind. 

Draco, Narcissa and Lucius pitied the poor being, holding themselves from vomiting and gagging at her loss of hair and teeth and the emptiness in her eyes. In Narcissa's eyes, she was a young, disturbed young lady who was going to have the most troubled life. In Draco's eyes, she was a damaged girl with a broken home that she finally escaped from. 

In Lucius' eyes, she was... A flower, only without the petals.


	3. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm still figuring out how AO3 works, guys... i'm sorry if i'm not adding chapter summaries but i don't know if they're neccesary or not. if anything isn't right, let me know! are the chapters too long/short? do let me know!

What is home?

Is it a place? 

Perhaps a spacious manor with marble floors that often smells of strawberry pie and cinammon coffee, and where vinyls are often played on the expensive and dusty golden pick-up forgotten in the corner of some living room. Perhaps a cottage by the lake, where maple trees let go off their colored leaves in order to cover the ground during autumn and leave off firey tones of red and orange. Perhaps it's the pathway leading to the deepest core of your favorite forest, the one squirrels and deers would magically appear in front of your eyes and eat nuts and fruits out of your palm.

Is it a sound? 

Maybe a song you once heard a band play and now you can't take your ears off of it, and are dying to attend their concerts but you're too poor or have zero time. Maybe it's the way the oven goes off precisely thirty minutes after your lover puts the brownies in it, and the house smells of chocolate and bananas. Maybe the way birds sing in the wind for you to wake up early in the morning, only to be greeted by a green yard filled with lavender, pines and tall apple trees.

Is it a person? 

A heartbeat, perhaps. Maybe the way they used to run their hands through your hair as a little kid, and they braided her hair so neatly and nicely that all the kids envied you for such perfeclty arranged braids. Maybe the way their hands drew hearts on the foggy winter window of your car when you'd go to your hidden cabin in the woods for Yule vacations. Do you call that home?

"Home is where the heart is," some had said once. But what if you don't know which piece of your shattered heart to follow? Tiny bits of Alana's home rest into the cells of Azkaban and the forest of the Northern England. Besides that, the closest thing to home that she's got is the orphanage she had been sent to precisely eight months ago after her parents were locked up for domestic violence against her.

Bullshit. 

They had done anything but save her, for she was lost among children of either missing or dead parents and had no idea how to survive on her own. A 17-year-old stuck between 10-year-olds who smell like piss and puree.

All she did was sit in her empty room and count the bricks her walls were made of; a gorgeous tint of maroon and orange, colors which reminded her of the gorgeous autumn Hogwarts took care to be home of each year. She wanted nothing much but to go there, and feel safe again. 

She had been questioned about her parents that winter. 

"Have they done this to you before?" Alastor would ask and she's shake her head no, receiving a sigh from the exhausted man as other three aurors would guide the exit of the interogation room. "Surely?" 

"Sir, a drop of Veritaserum and she's all yours," one of them proposed. Alana didn't recognize him, for she'd never seen his face before. But he was very ugly, unlike other aurors who were simply kind-hearted and warm-looking. Even Alastor Moody before her eyes seemed warmer than those three gorillas. 

"We won't do such thing as that," the colored hair had appeared in the room again, and Alana learnt her name to be Nymphadora, or for short, Tonks. The only female auror and the only one Alana would respectfully reply to. The rest of them could suck her ass, she'd thought.

"I'm afraid we've got no other choice. She's not talking." Moody had been a little confused as if to why the poor girl hadn't wanted to share her story. Maybe she'd been threatened by her own, worse case scenario, with her life. 

"Maybe I'm telling the truth, did that ever occur to you?" Alana'd spat maliciously towards them, crossing her arms over her chest and sucking onto her tongue. They all eyed her curiously, each of the aurors having particular theories as if to why she might've been hiding the truth.

Alana had continued, "Besides the fact that the goverment is full of corruption just as in the muggle world, you're also very pushy. If I had something to tell you and it were to benefit me, trust me, I'd gladly scream it out." A sarcastic grin had made its' way up her lips and the aurors exchanged gazes. 

"Could you leave us for a moment, please?" Tonk had suggested and the men listened, now only herself and the young girl appearing in sight. They sat opposite of each other, a metal table separating them. Alana was not a prisoner, so she wasn't tied with chains nor cuffs nor other spells. She was there for her own safety, or at least that's what they'd told her.

She'd waited a long time for Tonks to find her words, impatience already filling her cut veins. Scars from the broken glass and flower vases were deeply marking her dark skin, and she couldn't help but cringe at the ugly sight of herself.

"Corruption." 

Alana had looked up to the young woman and frowned amusedly. "Indeed. If you think I don't know-"

"How old are you, exactly?" had asked the auror, standing up from her seat and beginning to walk around the tiny, suffocating white room. 

"Soon to be 18."

"Do you know what corruption means, Alana?"

She must'have been joking, "Doesn't everybody know?"

"If you do know, then, and we're both talking about the same corruption system, I can assure you, one hundred percent, that the Ministry of Magic is anything but corrupted. We're only here to help you, help you get out of this situation and help you understand what happened."

There had been a twinkle in her left eye that reached Alana's sight, and in that moment a sparkle of something - she didn't know what exaclty, the girl'd felt her heartbeat pace a little slower and calmer. Her palms had felt less sweaty and warmer, legs stopping from shaking and her lower lip eventually released from the tight grip her teeth held. 

"So, trust me. I know it's hard to hear these words nowadays, but trust me." 

The woman had seemed so genuine that Alana couldn't help but gulp and look down at her once broken wrists that the auror in front of her had helped clean out and transform them back to normal. 

"Is there anything your father did to you that we're not aware of? Bash Ivanov."

They had repeated his name so much as if Alana's father was a murderer, which he was obviously not. Every person has flaws. Every person makes mistakes. Her father only... Made them often than he should have. And the poor girl was aware it wasn't normal, or healthy for a father and a mother to behave like that. 

"My mother too." An equal amount of abuse came from both parents, and Alana was quick to let Tonks know - from the cold winters to the hot summers she'd work in the garden without being given water or food for twelve hours straight, so she'd faint and then get beaten until waking up. Tonks had forced herself not to gag at the explicit scenes the kid would describe of her mother's nails digging into the nape of her neck once in a while when she'd misbehave at school, or the way her father's figure would appear late in the night so he'd bend his daughter over and hit her with his belt in such a sick, messed up way.

The aurors listened from outside the room and felt their stomachs flip upside down, thinking of ways to help the girl escape from this nightmare. 

"We can't put her into the orphanage, Rufus," Tonks had explained to the Minister, "she's too old to be there, she's almost 18."

"I'm sorry," Rufus was on a run through the halls of the Ministry, hurrying to a estination unknown to the desperate aurors, "There's nothing I can do. There's no other option for her. Except being thrown in the streets, of course. You wouldn't prefer that and neither would I. But what else can I do?" The man had seemed merely interested into finding a home for the damaged kid in the interrogation room, but there was nothing to be done except send her to the orphanage until December of 1997.

And that is precisely what had happened. She was now wasting her summer time in her warm room, playing with the suncatcher she built herself a few months ago, during the spring. There was a nice lady that brought her food and sometimes, she'd bring her pretty bouquets of lavender and rosemary and Alana would dry them and sneak them into her foods and teas. The same lady brought her a piece of quartz and one of amethyst one night when Alana felt disturbed by the memories of the cold December night, and the caretaker thought, perhaps these powerful crystals would help the poor thing loosen a little bit, maybe get rid of the bad energy inside herself.

Nothing was to be done though. 

Not even the quartz suncatcher that spread rainbows over her Lolita canopy couldn't take her mind off of her own past. Bits of Draco's face played like a movie inside her soul, and the hatred for him grew stronger and stronger each time she'd remember how he called so mischievously for those people to take her parents away from her. 

Even the aurors lied to her. Tonks, most of all. She'd promised Alana to help her get back on her feet, help her feel better, yet all they did was throw her in here and expect her to stay quiet. 

The girl played with her amethyst handmade necklace and took a glance out the window, noticing the cherry trees shaking off their flowers and making way for fruits to grow. It felt as if she stoppped blossoming. Ever since that specific night, her mind stopped growing, her soul as well, and her body, well, just as much. Due to the stress, pain and sorrow, Alana began getting her period once in three months, and the bleeding was a painful week of crying, fever and fainting.

The caretakers did not know what to do with her anymore, for she was their eldest and no medical help was given at the orphanage the girl had been sent to, meaning they had no idea what it meant or what they could do to help her feel a little better. A few injections with Ibuprofen or Diazepam and she'd fall right asleep, covered in a thick blanket and a thicker layer of body hair due to the lack of aliments in ther stomach.

This time, the period came with an unbearable state of mind, one with anxiety and stress and sadness, one that overwhlemed Alana just so much that she started counting from one to ten repeatedly just so she wouldn't go through a mental breakdown. She's change three pads in five hours or less, which was not healthy for a girl to do, and she'd bleed so hardly and painfully that her insides twitched each time she'd move. 

No one understood why. Maybe it was her body's way of coping with her trauma, but it fet unbearable to watch, let alone live it yourself. The women wondered how she wasn't dead already, for only three days of menstruation feel like hell on Earth, yet Alana was to go through an entirety of 8 days of an even harsher punishment.

She was crying silently and emotionlessly - perhaps out of boredom, that day, while watching her suncatcher move to the wind sneaking into her room through the half-open window, when a knock against the door startled the living hell out of her.

Her favorite caretaker stepped in, accompanied by someone. "You have a visitor!" smiled the lady before stepping outside and leaving the two alone.

You've got to be kidding me.


	4. Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as soon as i figure out how this site works i'm abandoning my wattpad account lmao <3 im boutta post my other fics here also. (i have a complete wolfstar fic and an on-going Draco/OC one with more than 47 chapters posted.

"Leave." Alana's first words that week were directed towards no other than Draco Malfoy. He was alone, sitting in the dorm's doorway as he stepped in and shut the door behind him. "What do you want?" She barely sounded human anymore, which to Draco, seemed awful. 

She was much different than eight months ago - her braids were gone and her skin wasn't glowing anymore. She was of course, sweaty, but the same blue and purple highlights of her cheekbones weren't there anymore, they simply stood out with the usual, white highlighters. Her eyes were surrounded by such dark colors that you could tell how much sleep she was getting, and her limbs had gotten slimmer each month.

Draco pursed his thin, rosy lips, and looked up at the girl, slightly intimidated by her deadly gaze. "I'm not here to fight, Alana," said him, but when she turned her head to the boy, she say how ignorant he was to the entire situation.

He looked as good as he always had, with his hair a little messy during the summers and wearing a full-black outfit of a pair of skinny jeans and a plain t-shirt, as his wrists were hugged by bracelets and his fingers by rings. 

"Then what are you here for?" asked the girl, sitting up on her bottom and laying against the cold wall behind of her, knees up to her chest and arranging her hair subtly. She knew she looked a mess, anyway.

"Because school starts next week?"

"So?"

"You've got no textbooks, nor a broom, nor a companion, nor a robe to start your year off with?"

The girl puffed her cheeks, "You've got to stop answering questions with other questions. What does the beginning of the year have anything to do with you?" as she rose to her feet, she felt a bothering and utterly troubling pain in her lower abdomen, causing her to bend over the desk next to the window and moan loudly.

"What's happening?" Through the doors appeared Narcissa Malfoy, and she was wearing a black and gorgeous long dress made of satin and silk. She noticed the girl's disturbance and glanced down at her petite arm caressing her abdomen. "Are you on your cycle, Alana?" asked Narcissa.

"What are you doing here?" It was, perhaps, impolite of her to ask the mother the question in such a mannerless way, but the pain coming from her menstruation and the confusion brought by the two Malfoy's intrusion were mixing into an overwhelming sentiment of anxiety. "Y-Yes, I am."

Alana glanced up at Draco. "We're getting you out of here."

"What do you mean?"

"Darling- Take these." Narcissa handed the girl a package of pads and Draco looked down immediately. Alana placed the pads on her desk and frowned at Narcissa. "Do you trust me?" the mother asked.

"Not a little." It was true. Alana did not trust anyone anymore - not after even the aurors lied to her about trying their best to make her happy. 

"Good." With that, Narcissa flicked her wand in a different manner, white stardust shooting out of the tip of it into the girl's stomach and taking away her pain shortly. 

Alana was reliefed of the agony and looked at the mother in awe. With a proud smile, Narcissa spoke again, "Now go change, and we'll wait for you." Narcissa put some neatly folded clothes next to the package of pads on the desk.

All Alana did was nod gratefully, then leave the son and mother in her room as she went to change. She brought the new set of clothes along and quickly undressed herself before putting the new outfit on - and it was a simple, black summer dress with silver flowers covering it almost entirely, and dangerously thin straps to hang of her peculiar collarbone.

Alana couldn't have been more satisfied. She combed her hair with her fingers, then returned to the dormitory where the two Malfoy's were sat quietly. Draco had no comment regarding her appearance and neither did Narcissa, so she spoke directly. "As you have not already turned 18, we are able to keep you under our custody as your legal guardians for a few months until you're considered an adult."

The girl frowned, sitting down on her undone bed and watching the woman speak. "Why on earth would you do that?" Better asked, what for? She must've been onto something.

Narcissa bit her red lip and shortly gazed over to her son before returning her painful, emtpy eyes to the girl. "Because it's your last year and Draco-" But the son coughed twice. "It's hard to do things on your own, Alana."

The girl puffed her cheeks. "I've been doing things on my own for quite a while, Miss, I don't think I need help right about now. Thank you for your concern."

Narcissa spoke harshly. "You are not allowed to go to Hogwarts without having parents or legal guardians, so if your wish is to remain without a diploma, then we may as well leave." The two Malfoy's stood up and headed for the door when Alana jumped on her toes.

"What's in it for you?"

The woman didn't turn around just immediately, for there was a slight sketch of a smile plastered to her made-up lips. When she did meet the girl's eyes, though, she stepped a few feet closer and raised her cold palm to Alana's chin. 

Hesitantly, she spoke. "I understand that for your entire life people have used you in their own benefit. Today, however, we're concerned about your own. So you're either going to take my word, or stay here for five more months." Her tone was somewhat tender yet dominant, sending shivers down Alana's spine as she watched the sincere expression of Mrs. Malfoy.

Which is the reason why two days later she could be found in a carriage leading to the castle with Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini and Draco himself. They were talking Quidditch as always, but she was looking out in the forest absentmindedly, overthinking about the opportunity she's been given and however might've benefited the Malfoy's. 

Besides being a Prefect of Slytherin, exactly like their son, the poor girl had nothing to provide them. Not fortune, nor properties or anything at all. But it was impossible for them to would've done it for no reason, as no one ever does that nowadays. Especially the Malfoy's.

Though the aurors seem to be denying it, Alana was very much aware of the corruption of her goverment, and she was also very aware of the many briberies coming from the Malfoy family. They weren't an evil family, but they knew how to make everything be in their favor, so subtly that they were still a very respected family in the world of politics and even throughout the school.

She didn't trust them. Not even Narcissa, although she had been very nice to her and taught her how to do painkilling spells. Trust is something important to Alana, for neither her parents nor closest friends she'd ever had provided her it. So why would three strangers do, so out of the blue? Why now and what for?

"Alana," Draco spoke her name and she shook her thoughts away. 

"Hm?"

"Let's go," he drew his hand out from outside the carriage and waited for the girl to hold onto it as she stepped down, but she didn't. She exited herself and looked into the highness and greatness of the caslte. Finally, a familiar looking place. The chandeliers were visible through the big windows, candles and tables and colored canopies announcing the work housekeepers put into the arrivle of the students.

They were about to dine in the Great Hall for the first time, and Alana wondered if anyone knew. She must've been mentioned once or twice for not coming to the last semester of last year's.

When her and the other three boys walked together into the Great Hall, all dressed in their robes and turnlenecks or button-ups, no one seemed to care. Except a few girls who glanced over to Draco, thing Alana wasn't surprised by since he'd always have groupies look his way, and Nott and Zabini as well, for all three of them were pratically the Gods of the school. 

Draco had this skinniness in him, making him feared to be looked at yet uncommonly attractive to stupid girls. He'd always wear his hair full with gel and rings on all ten fingers, and he walked with these icy eyes as if it were normal to look as cold as him. 

Nott, however, was a very feminine boy. He had his limbs skinny and weak, and his skin coffee-stained which glew pink in the light; there were dots and marks poiting his face and palms, very proeminend and orange freckles covering his nose and cheeks and even his eyelids. His hair was of an ashy brown, almost blonde, curled into short and shiny spirals, and his eyes shone with a dark blue, deep ocean-like color. He was not as shy and quiet as he seemed to be, but unlike the other two boys, he enjoyed his time alone and did not take part in the gang-bullying Draco considered religion.

Out of them all, Blaise seemed to be the biggest and eldest, for muscles were almost ripping through his tight button-up. His chin was always up, no matter who stood in front of him, and he awas never disrespected by his fellow mates, for his arrogance and independency intimidated most ot them. Draco himself was not precisely one Blaise would praise, but a simple mate of his. Of course, all Serpents were loyal to each other, but Blaise was not at all fond of idolizing one. His body was big, perhaps her was the tallest at Hogwarts, and his limbs were long and worked out, due to his participation in the Quidditch team starting in their sixth year, and his skin was darker than anyone's ever seen, perhaps the color of the galaxy itself as it was glowing with star-like highlights and had no flaw whatsoever.

He was the only one Alana considered good-looking. Every other boy, including Draco or Nott, were simply too delicate for her. Blaise, however, seemed to be showing zero interest in the girl, perhaps that being the reason for her attraction towards him. 

His jaw clenched at the sight of so many people, and with a sigh, the boys and Alana followed him to their table, sat down and awaited for Dumbledore's speech to begin and to end. No one seemed to be aware of anything, Nott and Zabini not questioning Alana either.

At some point, Pansy Parkinson appeared out of nowhere, dressed in casual clothes and sat down opposite of Alana. "How are ya?" asked her.

Alana's eyes shot up immediately, and Theodore and Draco glanced towards her, knowing it was going to be amusing to witness their conversation. 

"Very well, thank you." Alana straightened her posture and faked a smile. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?"

Pansy's cheeks rushed with rose tints, and she spoke rather quickly. "Nothing, I was just- We heard you had this muggle flu and I was wondering if you were alright."

Muggle flu. 

Alright. 

"And me telling you helps you with what, again?" If there was one thing Alana hated, it was stupid questions. Chit chat. Meaningless words. Why waste your voice and time for absolutely no consequence? 

Pansy sat quiet on her seat and the other girl heard the boys chuckle and cough, and when she glanced over at them they were listening subtly to the two's conversation.

"So... You're brothers now?" Pansy chuckled herself, and Alana took it as a try to escape the awkward silence. How come she'd heard of the Malfoy's but not a word has been spoken of about her parents?

"We're not, Parkinson," Draco spit to the girl before Alana could, "And I figure that's not of your business so you may as well stay out if it, will you?"

When the feast was over, they all walked towards the exit, when suddenly Alana felt a hand slither on her lower back. She turned around to see Blaise grinning. "'Sup."

Good way to start a conversation. Although he was pretty, charming and handsome, was very hot and smart, had the perfect grades and also played Quidditch extremely well... And so many other things, Alana didn't reply and simply raised her eyebrows as an answer.

"What even is a flu?" He seemed confused, in a very adorable way. 

Alana chuckled, "It's a sickness." Too bad she didn't actually have it, but he'll never know.

"Is it like, contagious?" He seemed genuinely interested and right when Alana opened her mouth to reply, in the doorway of the Great Hall's entry, her and the other boys were greeted by no other than Lucius Malfoy himself.


	5. Lucius

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i figured out the fact that i can look up stories with whatever tags i want but... i'm disappointed i might be the only daddylucius enthusiast here

"Father," Draco breathed out and he seemed just as surprised as Alana to see him standing alone, along with his cane, in the very middle of the Great Hall's doorway. 

The girl clenched her jaw and shook Blaise's hand off her lower back, lowering her chin and eyes submissively as she was always and forever grateful for the kind gesture him and his wife had done for her. Although she hasn't spoken to him, nor ever found out if it was a choice of his to take Alana under their wing, she knew that if Lucius minded it, it wouldn't have happened.

He had a bossy air floating around him like magic. Unlike the painkilling spell Narcissa had taught Alana to do, his energy radiated with dark, black sparkling dust. He had unparted silver locks of hair that looked like you would see in the movies, and eyes of ice cold winters and thunderstorms that were dotted here and there with moss and poison ivy. His skin was milk-pale, close to how pale his son's was, and there were no imperfections scarring or ruining it, except for perhaps the wrinkles at the outer corners of his eyes and the ones on each corner of his mouth. 

Speaking of which - he had a pretty good-looking one, now Alana being aware of where Draco got those pigmented, red lips from. Altogether, Lucius Malfoy was, for his age of fourty-three years old, extremely sophisticated and beautiful.

From his long and strong posture to the firm grip around his cane, to the lengthy fingers caressing the statue of a snake curled around his wand, the man walked with such grace that heads turned curiously. And he knew.

"Son. Miss Ivanov." The girl tried not to look into his eyes for they were a magnet too strong - he held a glare so cold you'd think not the chilliest winter would compare. Snowflakes, ice, water, frozen lakes and fog, everything was present in Lucius' eyes.

"What are you doing here?" Draco spoke to his father as if he feared him, with the largest amount of respect in his manner and a calm, steady tone. 

"I came to speak to your girl friend." Lucius' eyes fell on the girl beside his son, and she rather quickly raised her head from the ground and frowned.

"Uh... Me?" 

That was dumb. "Well, I don't see another girl near my son, now, do I?" Lucius said, but his eyes shiftly turned to Theodore. Everyone looked at the poor boy for a split moment before looking back at the other male.

"Of course," Alana responded, with a tremble in her wrists that she tried hard to hide or even stop, but the presence of Draco's father was a little intimidating, even to her.

"Draco." Lucius looked at his son who then bowed his head shortly and left along with Theodore and Blaise, leaving a worried Alana alone with no other than the father of Draco Malfoy. 

He was wearing a simple black suit, and the other two times Alana has seen him, the first time being in December 1996, and the other only one day ago when she'd been packing her stuff to go to the Hogwarts Express, he was wearing the exact same outfit, making her think that maybe, it was his signature one.

"Don't worry," started the man, with a strong voice that left a fragrance of bourbon, coffee and cigarettes behind, "You're not in trouble, I would have sent you a letter if you were." 

His words calmed the girl down only a little, and he gestured at her so gently and tenderly, to come along down the hallway. They walked at a very slow pace, the sound of the girl's shoes and the man's cane the only sounds beside teeanger voices shouting their ways back to their dorms.

"But there is one thing that I felt we should talk about, you see." Now she was worried again, and subtly stole a gimpse of the man, which was looking forward chin-up. She gulped. "Now that my wife and I are officially your legal guardians, I must express my concerns towards you." What? "Not personal concerns, of course, I have got none of those. But concerns regarding you."

"Me?" It accidentally came out loud out of the witch's lips. Another dumb question. Lucius sent her a judging pair of stone cold eyes, then smirked sheepishly. Her cheeks turned blood red and her eyes lowered to the ground, never having felt such intimidation coming from another person except her own family.

"Yes." He stopped on his feet then provoked her to stop as well by putting his cane in the way of her knees. Lucius stepped in front of her, as they were now standing in some corner of the castle, not being lost but outside of anyone's sight, into the darkness. His face was lit by small chandeliers hanging off the walls and the candles on the tiny round tables that were spread decoratively along the hallways.

Alana looked up at him, for his posture was two heads taller than hers, precisely twenty-three centimeters, and the father noticed how big her eyes were when she wasn't tired or beaten up. She had no make-up covering her eyelids unlike the other two times they've encountered, and looked angelic under the touch of the reflective flames that lay softly on her dark skin. 

Lucius himself fit the royal surroundings of the castle perfectly, for his cane was being held with a naked palm as the other was covered with a leather and lace glove, and there were hints of stubble on his chin indicating how much of an adult he was. Alana did not take her time to study Draco's father's features, for he did not leave her much time to breathe at all. 

"I have been discussing with your Headmaster, about your situation-"

"You told him about my parents?!" Her shout was impolite and almost infuriated the man, but he did now show it, so she did not notice, reason for why she kept talking offensively, "You have no right to do that-"

"First of all, do not interrupt me."

She gulped at his pressed words, between each of them appearing a short pause much like Professor Snape spoke. Alana realized she had behaved uncommonly for a girl so much younger than the man, so she bowed her head down. She was pissed about it, though, so she wouldn't apologize. 

"Indeed, Dumbledore is aware of your parents' whereabouts, but it's not a reason to worry. I clearly demanded that the infomation shall stay secret." He spoke with a formal manner, before letting his glass eyes travel all around the girl's facial expression. "Secondly, he did offer me pieces of information as well."

Alana rolled her eyes. Lucius noticed. He took a mental picture of the view but did not comment.

"It came to my knowledge that you're not... A necessarily... Deferential lady." When Alana heard his words, she wanted to laugh but she knew it would bother the man, so for whatever reason she couldn't get herself to do it. "I want your behavior to change drastically until you are no longer associated with our name. I will not approve of you to comport yourself discourteously."

When he spoke, his lower lip moves cautiouslly, in such a way that the young girl could not take his eyes off of it, but still listening to his words, though. 

"I don't know what you're talking about, I've never misbehaved, mister Malfoy." Her eyes shot up to his, and she blinked rather rapidly, much like a child or a dog would do. 

Lucius cringed. "I do not stand ill-mannered children."

Children. Did she look like a child to him? Of course, she was almost thirty years younger, but was not a child. In fact, she considered herself mature for her age. At least, she looked mature. 

"And I do not stand to be lied about. Dumbledore lied. I'm not Prefect for no reason, I'm a well-mannered woman."

He wanted to laugh at the word she called herself, for in front of his eyes stood one stuck up child with a superiority complex and a dress too adult-like for her tiny body.

"It was not a question," said Lucius, his voice raw and low and irritating to Alana's ears, "It was an order."

Much to her surprise, Malfoy stepped a few inches closer so that he would look down at her through his long, black lashes. His arm travelled in the air up to her chin, and he raised it only so much that her eyes would meet his, in such an electrifying way that her palms had no more sweat to produce. 

"So you either listen, or we're not going to send you back where you came from." 

The image of the orphanage appeared suddenly into the witch's mind, and she remembered the weird-smelling water and dry air. She remembered how there was no one to talk to for longer than eight months except for the caretakers, and conversations between herself and them would not last longer than five minutes, or leave the subject of well-being, hunger and boredom. How are you today? Did you eat? Glad to hear, did you enjoy it?

Yes, I did enjoy it, it's actually under my bed and I'm going to throw it out the window once you leave. Take the plate back to the kitchen, though. 

The man eyed the girl suspiciously. "I have no clue what my wife was thinking when she accepted Draco's request of bringing you into our respected manor, miss Ivanov, but I suggest you do not cross the line."

There were not any right words in the world to reply to his... Threat, so Alana shut up and looked somewhere else, provoking Lucius to tighten the grip of his fingertips against her chin and turn her head back to his. 

"Are we clear?" asked him, and she simply refused to look at him in the eye. But she nodded, only because she wanted him gone. The way he spoke to her woke up an anger so powerful she could destroy everything on her way to the common room, and his demanding, superior manner and voice tone pushed her to the edge, causing her blood to boil. 

He was amused, though, at the way she eyed him so angrily, as if he'd just stolen her favorite candy. Lucius withdrew his limb and stepped back, leaning on his cone and narrowing his eyes. 

What was he looking at like that? Besides the fact that he was a complete dick to Alana, he began examining her from head to toe, as if he were a fashion judge, and he tilted his head sideways.

"Interesting choice of a dress."

This time, Alana looked up at him in confusion and curiosity, somehow flattered by his null statement. Of course he liked it, it was his wife's choice. In a sarcastic manner, she grabbed the hems of her dress and bowed like princesses did. "Do you like it, my Lord?"

Lucius nearly choked on his own saliva, but hid the reaction with a vapid expression. 

"On the contrary, princess," started the old man, with his naked hand now tucking a strand of his platinum hair behind his soft ear. She looked bewildered by the start of his sentence, and widened her eyes, her plump lips losing the ironic smile and bending into a thin line, "Armpits disgust me. I've had a very hard time looking at you this entire conversation." 

Her lips part. What. The actual. Fuck.

"As if I'm wearing clothes to please your sight, Sir." 

He felt her tone to be offended and upset, so he grinned ever so slightly, that it would be obvious to Alana to notice the amusement and confidence in his face.

"Of course you aren't."


	6. Blaise

The next few days went by hardly, as nothing necessarily eventful was happening, and the Great Hall felt like a rough burden to Alana. Chicken breast here, cow milk there, cheese, beef, pasta. The meat disgusted her, and it smelled horrible of dead animals. 

She sent Blaise a short look and noticed how he was eating calmly, as with one hand he was driving her fork to his food and into his mouth, while the other was holding a newspaper. She did not ask, and quickly look away, opposite of herself sitting no other than the Parkison girl, who was annoying and obnoxious and had a way too high-pitched voice when she spoke to her friend. 

Theodore, much like the other Slytherins at the table, was eating on his own and reading a book. He looked different than he did last year, with his hair longer and his limbs skinnier. Alana noticed. He looked good though. He always did.

Except Alana was not known to compliment, nor talk to people at all. She truly hated them, genuinely and sincerely. From men to women and from children to elders, everyone was a disappointing chit-chat and a loss of time, as no one truly held meaningful speeches with her, no one talked about actual things, matters and issues. 

You would take Draco for an intellectual. Alana puffed her cheeks and hid a smile under her lips at the thought of that: Draco, the intellect. Oh, but how much he lacked the atributes for that title; how much he'd struggle to read a sentence without mumbling or shivering the words, or how much he'd struggle to not look confused in each Divination or Transfiguration class. He was sure smart, but not the wisest of them all. 

He seemed smart, and perhaps he was, but therec was certainly something wrong with the smart in him. It didn't seem... Natural.

"Don't tell me you've got a crushy-crush on your Prefect mate," Blaise nudged Alana and she was startled by the sudden touch, looking at his elbow with a frown plastered to her forehead. "Sorry." Blaise quickly withdrew his body from hers.

"Crushy-crush?" 

The pretty boy shrugged and glanced over to his friend, "You've been staring for some time and you haven't eaten anything." Blaise points to Draco, then to Alana's fool plate. The mug of coffee was empty though. 

The two glanced at Malfoy and he was examining his chicken wing with narrowed eyes. "I'd rather date a muggle."

Blaise kissed his teeth and smirked, "A muggle over Draco? Powerful statement, Ivanov." 

His eyes were gorgeously sparkling on the girl in front of him, and he watched her shake her head in an amused way, then look around the room to avoid an awkward eye-contact. 

"How about me?"

Alana looked up at Blaise and sent him a confused, raised eyebrow. "Hm?"

"Would you date a muggle over me?"

What guts he had to say those words and not feel a thrill of anxiety, whereas Alana felt all the things a girl could feel when his smirk curved higher and his pointy cheekbones rose up. 

"Most likely," she replied in a calculated manner, refusing to show emotion. "What is it that you have and a muggle doesn't? A flick of a wand?" It was amusing, but true - although Alana had been taught her entire life that mudbloods and muggles should not be at all compared with wizards she secretly tried coming up with valid reasons for it, except the disloyalty to your blood, which she obviously did not believe in. 

For power does not stand in the physic but the mental. It does not stand in the blood, but the mind.

"I can do many other things with my wand, though." 

She wanted to give him a fake giggle for the hell of it and out of pity, but she just cringed and smiled at him, probably starting the rebirth of his confidence when showing a bit of emotion. He felt proud, and her, disgusted.

With boys and what they thought was hot, or cheeky. He was lucky he was so cute, or else she would've ran out the Great Hall.

When breakfast was over, Alana was not left alone and had the pretty boy luring behind her, footprint on footprint, slowly and silently as if she wasn't aware of his presence. "What are you doing, Zabini?"

"Guarding you on your way to class?" he joked and heard a chuckle come from the girl.

"I'm not going to class." 

"Then were are you going?" Blaise kept walking, and Alana did too, not minding him following her and keeping her chin raised. She held her books underneath her clothed armpit and kept her lips pursed. 

"None of your business," replied the witch, not necessarily wanting to tease the boy but he surely felt teased.

"Then I shall just follow your lead and see where this goes." She hoped he wouldn't have said that, because she was heading for the library and wanted some time alone to go through last semester's - the one she didn't attend - lessons, for she wasn't going to disappoint Professor Snape no matter what.

She wasn't a teacher's pet, nor did she ever recieve grades because of her deer eyes or pretty lips - Alana was a genuinely good student and a remarkably intelligent girl, everyone envied her for the quick brains. Severus, however, did not believe in such thing, for the perfect student does not exist, as he'd say, so he liked pushing her to her limits, giving her additional homework and optional reads she would, the next day, come completely prepared for.

Having reached the library, the girl was curious if Blaise was still being a dick and was following her so she swiftly turned around of her heels and was startled by the closure between her and him. 

"Blaise," she breathed out hardly, and looked at him straight in the eyes. "If you want to stay with me, you'll have to, well, firstly be quiet and secondly, stay away. At least two meters away." 

Blaise raised his arms up defensively and smirked at the girl. "Sorry. You do realize we have class in thirty minutes, though, right? What are we doing in the library?" 

He spoke too much for the pretty mouth he had. "What I'm doing in the library is studying and what you're doing, is leaving," the witch demanded, causing Blaise to pout. 

"Why?" he took a step closer and Alana froze on her feet, eyes stuck on his elegant and tender features. 

Blaise had a fairly tiny amount of imperfections, for his face was symmetrical, much like his shaved, wavy hair and everything about him was a monchrome painting of brown tones, from a lighter tone of beige on his gorgeously shaped cheekbones to darker chocolate nuances on the corners of his plump, swollen-looking lips. 

And he always dressed elegantly, with either button-up shirts, coats and checked trousers, or slim-fit turtleneck, jeans and leather jackets. He was a boy who turned heads, perhaps even more than Draco did, for he had a different aura surrounding him, a pair of dark eyes and these magical-looking features no one could top.

He was a boy who turned heads, perhaps even more than Draco did, for he had a different aura surrounding him, a pair of dark eyes and these magical-looking features no one could top   
"Because I need to study, Blaise, and we both know you don't quite enjoy reading." 

Poor guy. He leaned on the back of a chair with his right hand, shoving the other one in his pocket and keeping his eyes on her girl. "I enjoy reading," lied the boy, for both him and the girl knew he would never need the lectures professors would give as homework or summer work, and he'd come back with the excuse that there are so many other things to do besides reading, like existing, in real life.

Alana considered that pathetic, for a person who does not read has no escape place. The girl often found herself getting lost in fantastic or romantic literature, whether it was written by a muggle or a wizard, though there was a huge difference between the two.

You see, muggles have this way of creating unnecessary social issues and to be problematic. 

Unlike muggles, wizards often write books of fantasy or romance, but there isn't a start or finish point, for the storyline consists of only the good guy and the bad guy. Muggles, however, due to the issue they experience in real life, have much history from which they get inspired to write, such as the inequality between men and women or white from black, they put accept on these aspects either as they'd happened, or they transform them into a fantastic story, of why dragons are better than vampires, for example.

Her most recent read had been a Parisian '55 novel, a very erotic literature depicting this old man's interest in a young girl, and she had at that time realized how sick muggles are to write of such things as envolving yourself with a woman too young.

Unlike Alana, Blaise will never know these things. Some people might say it's not your business as a pure-blood wizard to do muggle study and be aware of their issues or cultures, but Alana found herself extremely interested in their books lately.

Unlike Alana, Blaise will never be aware of how her and him would be treated in the other world. This was something Alana wished he wouldn't know neither, because as much as she tried to understand muggles, they gave her too many reasons to dislike them.

"Truly," continued Blaise after a short pause, "Here, I'll sit and listen." 

The boy sat down on a wooden chair and Alana rolled her eyes. "Don't." She didn't like being watches as she was doing important things, for another's eyes distracted hers. Which is why she did not sit down until Blaise rose to his feet.

"Alright," said him as he stood up and sighed, "I'll go, but-" There's obviously a but, "-I'll come back tomorrow. And the day after, until you let me listen to your reading."

She laughed it off as he walked to the exit of the library, "Keep dreaming," she said to herself, knowing she would never get soft under Blaise's begs or pouts.


	7. Boys

Unfortunately to Alana, Blaise hadn't lied. 

He'd kept coming with her to the library each day for two weeks straight until the middle of September, and she had to learn new ways of refusing him nicely so he wouldn't get pissed. He never did get piss, though, for every time she said no, he shrugged, told her he'll come back the next day and then, well, came back. 

It was almost uncommon for him not to come. Sometimes, Alana would manipulate him into carrying her books because her back hurt so bad, and he did not complain once. Neither did her, for she would then make him go away the minute she walked through the library's doorway.

"Come on, Ally!" She hated being called that but resisted puffing her cheeks or chelnching her jaw. "Let me for only, like, ten minutes! I'll be quiet!" Blaise pouted his lips and without thinking, he reached out with his hands and grabbed Alana by the wrists, startling her unknowingly.

She did not remember of her parents, but instead was curious as if to what signs had she given Blaise that made him think he was allowed to... Well, touch her. 

He removed his hands and awkwardly hid them in his pockets, "Sorry. Now, I'm staying, whether you like it or not." Blaise sat down and looked up at the girl, who was still frozen on her feet.

Was he being serious? She didn't know. He remembered her of annoying five-year-olds who can't keep their thoughts to themselves and have to speaking limits. Yes. Blaise talked and behaved like a five-year-old and it was not normal for Alana.

She did not say a word and turned on her heels, heading towards the exit.

"Where are you going?" 

"If you're staying, I'm leaving." The witch was not in the mood for arguing so without a second thought she almost left the room before being caught by one wrist, firmly. Turning around, she saw Blaise pouting worse than a pitbull. "And Blaise, in all seriousness, if you ever touch me again I will hex the shit out of you. I mean puke, tingly balls and hairy tongue hex." That made the boy quickly take his hands off the girl, and then sigh.

"I don't get it, why would you not let me stay with you?" He put his arms over his chest and clenched his jaw, obviously bothered by the girl. 

"Do I need to explain myself to you?" Alana spoke through gritted teeth, "It's a no. Period."

Blaise rolled his eyes. "An explanation would be nice, yes. And miss me with that I can't read when someone's around bullshit, you're not shy."

His manner and tone offended Alana, and Blaise was aware of it by the way her eyebrows raised and eyes widened, a soft yet mischievous looking smirk made its way up her lips. 

"I... Didn't mean it like that-"

"Get out." 

Blaise sighed again. "Come on, Al'," he got close again but out of anger, Alana reached out for her wand and pointed the end of it at Blaise's neck. "Woah-" The boy put his arms out defensively and held them still for a split moment, "-I think you should put that down, Ally."

"Leave."

And so he did. Then, Alana sat down, exhausted from the argument, if you can call it that. She rubbed her temples with puffy cheeks after putting her wand away into her knee-socks, and looked up at the mirror hung on the wall right next to a small book-shelf on top of which sat three perfectly burnt-out candles.

She saw her reflection and stood up to get a closer look. Right when she was face to face with herself, she noticed how a vein had gotten significantly more proeminent in the middle of her forehead, and how there were red tones covering her cheeks and chin, which made her an odd sort of uncomfortable. 

"Boys." 

A hardly familiar voice spoke from behind the girl and instead of turning around she looked through the mirror, eyes falling straight on the tall figure of Lucius Malfoy  
A hardly familiar voice spoke from behind the girl and instead of turning around she looked through the mirror, eyes falling straight on the tall figure of Lucius Malfoy. The man stood, as he always did, with both of his hands hidden underneath leather gloves and leaning against the cane that had a snake's head at the end of it, two emerald jade eyes staring, just like Lucius did, through Alana's soul.

What was he even doing here? 

There was no time for questions as Lucius approached Alana with small yet hard steps, each of them provoking a peculiar state of mind for the witch. She watched him move with class and flourishing grace, his clean white hair spread over his broad, big shoulders as he reached the destination of one feet from the girl.

"Your wand." 

He reached out with his hand and it made Alana widen her eyes. "What do you need my wand for?" She laughed it off. "No fucking way."

"Language, for Salazar's sake, you're in a library!" His voice was kept low and whispered, as if the paintings gave a fuck about whatever they spoke with each other. 

Lucius watched her from behind, eye glued to the nape of her neck as she did not dare to turn around. Somehow it was less frightening to see the man through a mirror than face to face. For when he was completely in front of you he made sure to intimidate you to the core, with the help of his fresh breath which smelt either of mint or cigarettes, depending on the day, or the grey, icy eyes, or the tall, big posture. 

And he succeeded. Alana didn't show it though.

"I told you to behave, as I recall, Miss." Lucius stepped closer. "You are not behaving."

"Are you spying on me?" the witch's voice trembled under her words, evoking a manly chuckle out of the father's lips. 

"I am spying, young lady, I'm making sure." He had a way with his words... Spoken so softly and harshy, it was frightening.

"Making sure?"

"Making sure you keep your word. Which you aren't." 

Alana looked at him through the mirror, his reflection smirking back at her as he'd been watching her for a few minutes now. 

"And how... Would you know that?" 

It was true. Alana did not care at all of Lucius's order, as he'd called it, of behaving nicely to her superiors. 

Superiors? 

She did not take the professors or older students as her superiors, for superiority did not mean age or profession, but knowledge and intention. Superiority is shown through actions, not titles.

"I had eyes on you. You did speak very impolitely with Professor Lupin last week, for example."

She rolled her eyes, and it made Lucius look away for a split second before returning his gaze onto her. "That wasn't my fault and, keep it between us, but Lupin has serious issues. It's like he's always on that time of the month," the girl joked, wanting to force a laugh or at least another chuckle out of him. 

Yet his face was stone cold.

So, Alana turns on her heels to look directly at him and she's met by the cold, stormy irises of an empty and vague man.

"I told you that if you aren't going to behave, you will be sent back." 

Lucius's words were cold because in all truthfullness, he did not give a single sophisticated fuck about where Alana was going to be. All he wanted was for her to not stain his name's reputation. 

"I would've probably listened to you if it weren't for the fact that you are not my father, nor will you be my guardian for longer than four months. I'll be eighteen and you won't have one single responsability towards me." 

She took one step closer to the man and looked him straight in the eyes, him being just a little taken aback by how confident she was in her tiny body and high-pitched voice. Lucius leaned in so their faces would be at the same level, which made Alana's heart jump in her own throat. 

"Turn around."

She gulped, and for whatever reason her feet were moving against her will and began to turn her body away from Lucius's. The witch looked at herself in the mirror(just to be clear this is NOT the mirror of erised), recognizing the fright and terror in her own poor face. Lucius, from behind, could've been seen holding his cane in one hand as the other travelled up the girl's arm, drawing imaginary circles around her soft elbow and feeling her goosebumps until the nape of her neck.

"Look at yourself," he said. And she was looking, but not seeing, for her eyes were blurry due to the anxiety Lucius was putting her through. He, however, was looking intensely. He was looking at her soft jaw and narrowed eyes, thin eyebrows and proeminent cheekbones. He looked the way her skin looked like dripping chocolate; glamorous and sparkling like bourbon and baileys. "Look at yourself," repeated Lucius, with with hand now raising up to the witch's cheek, and with the back of his palm he caressed her hot skin, letting her feel how silky and perfectly smooth his hands were. "What do you see?" He bent over to lean his cane against the mirror, and with both of his hands he took her hair and began combing it with his fingers. 

"Myself." 

Lucius rolled his eyes, but began leaning closer to her ear until his cold lips met her skin. She trembled under his touch and was surprized by their closeness but did not react. She kept her expression null and empty for her own sake. 

He sent towards her nostrils a scent of whisky, leather and smoke, and was not afraid to get any closer. 

"Imagine you're the most succesful and powerful woman on the planet," said Lucius, and with a strong confidence he took all of her hair in both of his hands and placed it as if it were tied in a ponytail, revealing her empty, pure and untouched neck. 

She imagined.

"Close your eyes," he whispered and she obeyed. She shut her eyes closed and began feeling his touch and breath much stronger than before, for she was not distracted by his appearence and finally, she could feel his energy completely. 

A cold touch is what he provided. Cold hands, a colder chest and an even colder breath. He emanated zero energy, zero aura. Alana did not feel one frequency or vibration coming from him and wondered what he must've done to be so empty. 

"What do you see now?" Lucius's whispers sent shivers down the nape of Alana's neck, and once he felt the goosebumps against his fingertips he withdrew his body a little so it wouldn't touch hers anymore. "Do you see yourself acting the way you do? Bratty... Impolite... Unladylike..." 

She did not see anything of what he'd just said. So she shook her head.

"Answer me," he obliged.

"No."

Lucius kissed his teeth and in that moment, the grip around the girl's ponytail tightened, now pulling it a little and making her bow her head back and frown. "No, what?"

She wondered what was wrong with him, or if there were people watching, for she felt forced to keep her eyes shut until he said it was alright to open them, so she was not aware of what was happening around them. Only thing she knew was that Draco's father had his lips presed to her ear, and it felt wrong and awfu.l. The old man's stubble was uncomfortablly tickling her cheek and she tried to ignore the feeling.

"No, Sir."

Lucius watched her mouth. He was ill. But then again who wasn't.

"Do you see yourself behaving, speaking when asked and doing as you're told?"

Not the last part, but let's get this over with. "Yes, Sir." The father was getting on the girl's nerves.

"Then you shall obey my orders. You will end up very high and wealthy, as myself." Lucius stood straight and looked at the girl in the mirror, hoping to have left at least the littlest of things in that empty brain of hers. "Open your eyes."

Alana opened her tired eyes, letting them fall on herself first and Lucius later. She looked at him, not confused, nor panicked, although it was an awkward and uncomfortable situation. 

"But you worked for your money. You have a job at the Ministry-"

"How do you know that?" Lucius asked. 

"I heard."

"So how do you know it's true?" The man grabbed his cane, put his leather gloves back on and sent the girl a curious, questioning gaze.

He was right, so she shrugged. "I don't know but whatever else would be the reason for-"

"Rule number one." Lucius interrupted and began to get on the girl's nerves badly. "You do not question money and do not answer money. Understood?" 

She nodded. "Yes, Sir."

"Be secretive and not nosy. A girl like you should know better than getting her nose in my wallet, now, am I right?" 

She nodded. "Yes, Sir."

"How much money does your daddy have, Alana?"

Fair enough. She thought for a second and opened her mouth to answer, but when she did so, Lucius's thumb covered her lips and stuck them together. With the other hand, he drove the bottom of his cane up the girl's ankle. "Were you about to respond, princess?" 

Tricky.

Alana shook her head no and looked down at her feet, for the first time feeling embarrassed in front of the man. 

"Good girl."


	8. Rain

There was not a moment the next day that Alana's mind was not being intruded by thoughts of no other than Lucius Malfoy.

The way he'd spoken to her, the way he'd touched her on her shoulders, neck and hair. She thought of herself to be sick at the thought of enjoying someone so old's touch, for the man was the father of her classmate.

She was curious of the reason mr. Malfoy was so keep on her repuation on well-being. It was not like she was an actual Malfoy and hardly anyone thought of or cared about her connection with their name. So why was mr. Malfoy trying so hard to make her so much like his son?

A quiet, yet loud person - a person who did not hesitate to speak up for themselves or to stay quiet in a situation where Alana would have been screaming. A person who did not mind other people's businessses and did not care of them. A person who would be yelled at when going home for the low grade meant something way too important for the father.

Lucius was trying to turn Alana into Draco, and she did not know if it was only a matter of time until he gave up or if he was going to try doing it even after she'd turn 18.

But for now, let her think of every other thing. The way he touched her, spoke to her, caressed her. It'd seemed to be such an intimate sort of touching, having the burning fingertips that caused the poor witch's neck to remain numb afterwards. But wasn't Lucius Malfoy married to the mother of his child? 

Narcissa was such a good person when it came to her family, and recognized her husband's issues more than anyone else did, but had decided to leave them be for a troubled family does not sit well with the public, as she'd said. As much as she cared for Draco, or her husband, she could not drop the facade of being a perfectionist woman as everyone else seemed to be so interested with their life. 

After all, the Malfoy's were a quite interesting and known family, from their wealth to their belongings and beautiful child, to their pasts of worshipping the Dark Lord and betraying the rest of their actual, wizard friends.

Alana was aware, as well, of the many things they'd done in the past, but it was not a quite important aspect of her life, for not only Draco's parents were involved with such dark magic, but all of the kids' at Hogwarts.

No one knew for sure, but Alana'd questioned it way too many times and she'd been thinking about it multiple nights in a row - all of these kids' parents were doing the dirty work of someone else. Either that, or they were kissing someone's ass to get where they wanted to be.

She knew her father had used to do that as well, as an Auror in the Ministry, when the Minister was no other than Cornelius Fudge. Alana's father had told her that sometimes, that was the only way of achieving your goals.

But she shook away the thoughts of her father and stood up from the couch sat in the middle of the Slytherin common room, only now noticing that her other fellow Slytherins were getting ready to leave for dinner. She wasn't in the mood for it, for she was not about to eat anyway, and also she sort of wanted to avoid Blaise for what she'd said to him the other day, so the witch stood up, pretended to also leave for the Great Hall but instead of a right, she took a left turn and ended up leaving through the big doors to the backyard of the castle.

There was soft, calm and relaxing rain going on outside, but it wasn't bothering Alana so she decided to go for a walk as long as the other students' time at the Great Hall. Perhaps meditating for a while would've helped her see things from other perspectives.

Hogwarts was beautifully surrounded by the Forbidden Forest and the Great Lake, providing each student with the superb landscape each time they went for walks; it was a pure and untouched forest, having an unpolluted water right by it. The unexpected autumn weather hit Alana's skin suddenly, provoking her to wrap her arm around herself and look around for a shelter from the wind. She did not want to go back inside, so she sat down on a bench near the forest, with a great view of the lake. 

There weren't any other sounds besides birds chirping and looking for their hidden nests, the calm water hitting against the shore and small thunders hitting the sky very far from where Hogwarts was. Up the sky were heavy, grey clouds which held powerful thunderstorms and it was only a matter of time until they were being released, so the student knew she hadn't much time to sit around.

All of a sudden, a hand tapped her on the shoulder and Alana quickly turned around, only to be greeted by no other than Draco. He had an obnoxious little grin plastered on his pale lips and sat down on the wooden bench next to the girl. She frowned.

"What are you doing here?" asked Alana, and Draco took his time to reply, for at first he looked out into the greatness of the lake with pursed lips and a thoughtful expression.

"Could ask you the same thing," replied him at last and glanced her way. Then, he pushed his palm into his left pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes Alana was more than surprised to see. 

"How'd you get that?" 

It was impossible for underage students to put their hands on alcohol or packs of cigarette, so to see Draco holding one in his hands was a dream come true for Alana, who, on her trips to muggle destinations each summer, would steal a pack or two and smoke them with her father. 

"You'd be surprised how scared of me Mr. Ackles is," the boy jiggled his eyebrows before gesturing at Alana to take a cigarette. She did not refuse, although she didn't say thank you either and simply put a lighter out of her jeans's pockets and lit up her cigarette.

The first drag felt like heaven falling on their faces, the smoke entering the body and leaving a burning sensation on the throat and nostrils before being released as the taste filled the mouths. It was a habit neither of them knew controlled them, however, a habit that felt fucking good on a day like this.

"So what's the matter with you?"

Alana raised an eyebrow. "I don't think it's your business." She laughed it off then took another drag of the cigarette. "What's the matter with you?" She wasn't curious but she felt like it was the only way to play the same game as him, knowing just how introverted and solidar Draco was as well.

He shrugged. "I just didn't felt like eating. Your turn."

"I didn't feel like eating either." And also, I've been thinking about the fact that your father gave me butterflies in the library the other day, but that's another story for another time.

Draco rolled his eyes. "You never eat anyway, so it doesn't count. You must have a reason for the long face."

The cigarette finished itself as the drags she'd taken were long, so she put it out and left it on the bench. "Again, none of your business. Why would you even ask?"

It was peculiar to have Draco Malfoy ask what was wrong with you, so Alana thought he was maybe up to something. She instinctively looked behind herself to make sure no one was about to throw red paint all over her hair. 

"Well, I'm asking because you're basically-"

"Shut up," Alana interrupted Draco and he frowned. "Don't say family."

He said nothing. 

"I'm not family, I'm a girl you took under your wing out of pity. Narcissa is just too good of a woman. Your father doesn't even want me-"

"How do you know that?" Draco knew it was true, because there'd been fights all over the manor when Lucius found out what Narcissa had done. He did not approve to have a girl wear his name so aimlessly and weakly. 

"It doesn't matter how, however I do. So don't play nice to me, because we both know that if it weren't for the fact that you saw things the way you did, we wouldn't be talking today."

Both of them knew she was right so Draco crossed his legs and looked away for a second, thinking of what to say so it wouldn't make him look stupid. Of course, most of the things he'd done until know had been done out of pity, but that doesn't mean this conversation has the same motiv.

"It would be nice to let people care about you sometimes, you know?" Draco tossed his cigarette on the ground and let the constant smirk on his lips fade away as they both looked up at each other. Alana was not at all moves by his sentence, but he meant it. 

"I don't need people caring about me," she stood up and put her hands around herself to create a barrier between the strong wind from her skin. The raindrops began to fall faster which was Draco's cue to leave as well. "You shouldn't either."

"I don't need people caring about me either, Ivanov," started Draco, "Doesn't mean I don't let 'em. It hurts them, and I'm not the bad guy here."

Sure you aren't.

The rain hit their skins slowly, but it was still not entirely raining, which is why they stood still on the opposite side of each other with their hair wet and arms around themselves. "Of course. It's not like you're the main reason why everything's fucked, right?"

"Fucked?" Draco puffed his cheeks. "All I did was fucking save you."

"Save me?" At first Alana asked the question directed to herself, "Save me?" She looked up at Draco and took a step closer. "I don't know if you have brain damage causd by family trauma, Draco, but you're the one who put my parents in fucking Azkaban. How is that saving me?"

"Your father was literally beating the shit out of you-!"

"So what?!" At this point, the two were yelling at each other and hoping the rain would cover their voices. "There are millions of fathers doing this, Draco, it doesn't mean I have to live without my parents!"

Draco widened his eyes. "Do you hear yourself?" He got closer to her and pointed at her with his finger. "You were being abused! Abused by your fucking dad! And you think it's normal! You're fucking sick, Alana!" 

"And why the fuck do you care, Draco? You don't see me coming to you, whining about how your father worshipped fucking Voldemort just a few year ago. Why do you care about what goes on in my house?"

There were no words to answer her question, so Draco took one last step, wrapped his hand around Alana's throat and pushed his lips against hers. The wetness between them got worse and worse each time a thunder would strike, but at this point, it didn't matter. She was responsive only a minute afterwards, and opened her mouth to let his tongue in. Draco tightened the grip around the girl's neck and roamed with his tongue all over her mouth, Alana finding herself pushing him away with her palms across his chest only five seconds after.

"What the fuck, Draco?" she asked, this time quieter.

He looked at her with his swollen lips and red nose, then clenched his jaw and fists. "Now you know why."


	9. Nymphette

Now you know why.

Now she knew why. 

Now she knew why Draco had been so nice and awful to her at the same time. At least she should've know. She didn't, though. She didn't know. Alana was even more unknowing than before. 

She lay on the wet grass all day that day. And today she was laying down on this dusty piece of furniture on some forgotten about end of a hallway. She was looking out the window and thinking about ways to kill herself without actually dying. Perhaps a temporary death. She didn't want her parents to be worried about her but at the same time she didn't want to exist.

She felt like drowning in something that felt worse than hell. Her parents weren't present, she was surrounded by idiots and time didn't feel real. It was already October.

Blaise had started coming to the library without letting her know and without sitting with her. He sat three feet away and would subtly watch her study as if Alana wasn't aware of the glances.

But the only things she could think about was Lucius and Malfoy. Father and son. One was teaching her how to behave and the other pushing her to do the opposite. 

Perhaps it was Lucius's idea... To make Draco get close to Alana so she wouldn't be so against the Malfoy's. Perhaps Lucius wanted her to see them for the best, so that her family wouldn't be vengeful against them.

Now, in McGonagall's class, she's the only one sitting alone. Draco is not here and the other desks are occupied. She would've rather sat next to Pansy but she was stuck between either sitting alone which was fine with her, or sitting with Draco if he were to came. 

So the doors opened and he burst into the room with his robes threw back by the wind. "Mister Malfoy. How nice of you to join!"

"Thank you for the warm welcome, Miss," he replies sarcastically then sat down next to Alana, the only seat empty. "Good evening."

She ignored him and began writing whatever McGonagall said that she should. 

"Are you going to ignore me until December?"

"Yes." 

"Well, it's not really working out." He laughed.

Alana rolled her eyes. "Shut up, or I'm going to hex your tongue to speak bloody Bulgarian."

"Why Bulgarian?"

She puffed her cheeks. "Please, shut up."

Her eyes and head started throbbing in pain and she clenched her jaw. The only thing she wasn't in the mood for was the boy she desperately tried to avoid. She glanced over at him and noticed how his dark circles were gone. He looked quite beautiful, with the ice hair and grey eyes, the pale face and freckles and everything you wished to see in a boy. 

"Make me."

"I will. You might cry a little though." Alana gestured to the wand she had put on the edge of her desk, which Draco rolled his eyes at.

"Why are you so uptight? I kissed you, shouldn't that be something to be happy about?"

"Why would I be happy about you kissing me? You had no right to do that."

"Oh, please." Draco puffed his cheeks. "You kissed me back. Tell me you didn't like it and I won't do it again." His voice was low and sarcastic and that stupid grin kept tugging at the corners of his pink lips. 

Next thing they know, they were eating at each other's tongues in the Room of Requirement, tongues molding agasint each other and bodies grinding. Alana was sat on a piece of furniture and Draco standing between her naked legs, for she was wearing a pleated black skirt she died to fuck her in. She felt his dick getting harder in his trousers each time they parted for air, but she didn't know what to do with it.

After the last kiss she parted their faces and breathes out, "Alright." And she stood up from the piece of furniture, ran her fingers through her unbrushed hair and looked at Draco's swollen lips and bruised neck. "You're a very good kisser, I must say, but I have to go."

It didn't feel right to be there. He was indeed one of the best kissers she's had, but she didn't want it to go further. She needed a pause. 

"For real?" Draco was a little upset, but didn't say or do anything but shrug. "Whatever."

His feelings were hurt but it didn't necessarily hit Alana in the face. She arranged her clothes before coming out of the room, hard, cold air hitting her skin as the Room of Requirement had gotten hot.

She headed straight for the library. At that hour, Blaise should've left and she would've been alone. Alana ran as if her life depended on it, and when she got to her spot, she threw herself on the floor next to the bookshelves and let the tears she kept holding in leave her eyes and drip down her hot cheeks.

She felt like she was holding inside emotions from ten years ago - that's how big of a damage they had on her. She felt like she couldn't control herself anymore, and that she would explode any second now. She didn't know how to feel, not against Draco, not against Blaise, not against herself.

Draco was making her feel stupid one day and kissing her the next one. Blaise was simply annoying, and herself-

She let herself cry because of it. She never cried. Alana was one of the strongest people she knew, for she knew how to keep her feeings tamed and steady, but lately she felt like the world was crumbling at her feet.

The witch stood up at took a look at herself in the mirror. Her tears left salty stains on her skin and the tip of her nose was as red as her upper lip. She was trembling, but then, she started breathing in and out. 

One.

Two.

Three.

She had no right to cry. There were people going through worse things than she was. 

Calm down.

She deatached herself from her own body, walked behind herself and started coming her own hair. The girl saw herself in the mirror and smiled. 

"Let's do twists today," she said, playing with her hair from behind herself. The witch frowned and look at herself in the mirror. 

"Senegalese twists it is." 

Then, from behind herself, she started parting her hair and comb through it. She transformed, slowly and slowly, into her mother. Alana could see her braiding her hair and making her all pretty and made up, but before she could finish, she woke up from the trance at the sound of a cane tapping against the wooden floor. 

Her breath stopped for a moment. 

She saw herself in the mirror and behind her, Lucius.

"I don't understand how you keep coming here. There's literally no other parent coming as often as you do, it must freak Dumbledore out."

Lucius laughed at the girl, took his coat off, put it on the back of the chair and sat down. His cane rested on the side of the chair when he crossed his legs and lay his palms on his knee, on on top of the other.

"And I don't understand how you let boys make you cry."

She widened her eyes, but then narrowed them. With pursed lips, the girl asked, "Why are you implying a boy made me cry?"

"How stupid do you think I am? Do girls cry for other things except boys?" 

The question struck her. "Of course. Your parents being thrown in Azkaban might be a good reason for me."

At this point the nymph in front of his eyes seemed purposefully dumb. She chose to be annoying and obnoxious each time they met. He didn't mind, he knew he could turn her for the best, make her wish she were somewhat more elegant and isolated. 

It was a lie though, for partially, she was crying because she didn't know how she felt about being kissed and kissing Draco, and also ignoring Blaise and scaring him with her threats. She looked back at Lucius, leaned against the wall and crossed her arms. The man in front of her had his signature smirk and blue-grey eyes that pieirced through her chest. She remembered the last time they'd met and how his lips touched her skin.

And the girl wondered if he could also read that from her mind.

"I don't cry because of boys. I cry because I'm being upset by them. There's no point in telling you, is there? You're not my father. My father's in-"

"I think I know exactly where your father is, little girl, you mentioned it quite a few times," chuckled the man.

"Yeah," Alana puffed her cheeks, then started pacing around the library, with her cheeks wet and hot. "Fucking Azkaban," she spoke to herself, "Do you know what kind of life they live there? And my mom, as a fucking woman?!"

"There are many women in there-"

"Is that supposed to make me feel better? You put my parents in jail, in a fucking- Cell filled with filthy f-"

"Trust me, they're not living in the worst conditions. You shall not worry about it, I made sure they're- Well, not as mistreated as the others. Do you not think they deserved to be punished, Alana?"

Lucius' face was serious and the cane was still leaning against his chair. "Of course I don't! Would you rather have your parents' asses thrown in jail?" 

The words she spoke disturbed Lucius, but he ignored them. "This is not about me. It is about you. One thing that you should know as a woman is that women are not men's toys. Whether it is your father, brother, son or friend, they shall not touch you like that. Violently. It's absurd and absolutely outrageous."

"So I've been told. I've noticed you trained your own son to try and convince me."

Lucius was taken aback by the words and looked up. "Draco? Has he been... Talking to you?"

"Isn't that the whole point? To try and make me miraculously fall for Draco so that I won't cast an unforgivable curse on you for throwing my parents in Azkaban?" 

Lucius rose closer to the witch, raised his hand up to her chin and took a strand of hair from her eyes. He looked at her with the most meaningful, kind eyes, and smiled. "Well, if I wanted to do that why would I be asking my 17-year-old son to do it?"

The man's grey eyes were now intruding into the girl's glare, as they were penetrating her irises forcefully and making her tear up. She looked back at him with an empty and curious gaze. What did he mean? 

"Well-" she started, but she didn't know how to continue, "-perhaps, because he's hot? And you thought, maybe, it would be easy for him to... Manipulate me?" 

Her breath was shaky, and Lucius stepped forward, provoking her to stepped backwards until her back met a bookshelf. It wasn't nine p.m already, students were still there, only they were not able to see them because they were at the very back of the library when no one ever came. Somehow, Lucius always managed to find her.

He kept stepping closer to her, until he felt like he wasn't welcomed.

"If I wanted you seduced or manipulated I wouldn't have asked a boy to do it, I would've done it myself," Lucius spoke in a very whispered voice so no other student would hear. 

"Then why haven't you?" The girl's breath stopped in her throat, almost making her choke. She looked up at him with such red, bloodshot and shy eyes that she made him realize how much of a child she was.

Lucius, perhaps, did not want to seduce her or manipulate her into doing anything because it was simply not the case. He was sure of himself that the girl would turn out to be on their side after explaining things to her. After all, she was young, and she must've grown thinking everything her parents did to her was alright. Lucius did not want to scare her or make her want to go away, otherwise he would've... Tried a lot of other things.

He kept thinking about those things. How it would've felt to do them with or to her. But it wasn't appropriate for a girl like her, who held such beauty and was of such young age to experience those things just yet.

If he were to ignore the bad attitude, Lucius would think the girl was out of a fairytale. She had been gifted with a bone-structure like never seen before, and the night Lucius saw her the first time in a long time, her mother must've been braiding her hair before her father's outburst, for the girl had her hair parted in two halves and only one of them was tied in many tails, which now she stopped wearing. Her hair, today in the library, was falling over her small, chocolate shoulders which she chose to cover, and she was more elegant than ever, although she was missing a tooth in the back of her mouth.

She was a dark nymph with her pointy ears and sharp teeth, and she walked with grace and attitude which deceived many men into thinking of her to be an angel. She was so much more than that.

She did indeed have wings but they were not of the color white, and her aura was replaced with horns and the eyes glowed red in the dark. Figuratively, of course, for outside, she was warm and good-looking, pleasing to everyone's eyes, man or woman. 

Men, especially, since her hips were swinging each step and her breasts had such gorgeous shapes. Everyone dreamed of fucking her, whether it was boys or men of every age, from baristas at muggle cafe's that would catch glimpses of whatever colored panties the girl wore under her skirts and she'd bend over to tie her shoelaces to Professors like Remus Lupin who once, in particular, asked her to please stop wearing those skirts and did not say anything else.

You'll catch a cold in those, her father would say. And she would flip him off and leave. She knew spells to make colds go away. She felt good in the stockings and skirts and she loved to feel beautiful.

She just hated the outcome. She hated the comments and glances and she hated the fact that men thought she was dressing up for them. 

I get distracted. I can't work. I can't think straight. If she doesn't want to be looked at, then why is she wearing such clothes? 

Momentarily she would mind, but after moments of thinking, she would realize that men did nothing else than be horny and speak when not asked. She knew that as a nymphette like her, men would look her way and even get hard whenever she'd walk by, but she chose to ignore those things because they were simply disgusting.

But when it came to Lucius, she did not feel wrong. She looked at him and loved his devouring eyes, or the lack of touch between them. She loved how their skins have not yet touched yet still, she felt as if he'd explored each inch of her body with those lips.

"I'd rather wait," said him. Wait for what?

Alana took a step forward so now her back wasn't pressed against the bookshelf anymore. She did not care about the other students, but cared of the space between Draco's father and herself. "Wait for what?"

Lord, that voice, Lucius thought, and he thought about the things those lips could've done to him, and the way her mouth could sing so many other sounds than just words. And he wanted to push her against walls and disturb her and embarrass her, but she was simply too good for that.

Simply too pure.


	10. Truth or dare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: BROMANCE <3333

It was unusual of boys to enter girls' dormitories, but for Draco it was a biblical hobby. "What's up?"

Alana was startled to hear his voice coming from the doorway, so she wrapped the wet towel that hid her nude body from him a little tighter. "What are you doing here, Malfoy?" spoke the witch through gritted teeth as her wet hair fell long on top of her shoulders and water dripped down her lips.

Draco couldn't stop himself from looking at her exposed skin, but after a long moment of doing so, he realized it must've been weird. "So-" the boy started after shutting the door behind him when he saw there wasn't any other girl inside. They must've been gone already. "-are you coming to Theo's party?"

Theo's October 31st party was a tradition at Hogwarts- each October after the Halloween Feast they would use the Room of Requirement to get drunk, stoned and play silly games only they understood. Only this year was different, because Zabini turned eighteen.

"Of course," she licked her lips and leaned against a wall that was furthest from Draco, "Why?"

"Just asking," he stepped closer to the middle of the room while looking around at the walls which had photos hung on them, posters of bands and CD's. "I wanna talk about that kiss-"

"I don't think it's necessary. You're attracted to me and I get it, but let's not make a big deal out of it. Alright?" It surprised Draco how overly confident the girl was in herself, but it wasn't bothering him. In fact, he did consider it rather hot.

"Yeah but-"

"No but's. We're going to go and have fun and I'm not going to think about ways to ignore you because I don't want to. Draco, you kissed me, so what?" She crossed her arms against her chest and waited for a response as she started searching for clothes in her closet.

She was right and Draco knew it. It was unnecessary to explain himself to her. 

________________

A few hours later, Alana was all dressed up and ready to leave her dorm. She was to go alone- not with Draco, nor with Theo, Blaise, or Pansy. She was to go alone because the party was not about who she was going with, but about the fun she was about to have.

To be purely honest, she'd never put her mouth on alcohol or psychadelics. She felt like they weren't the right thing to do to make yourself feel better and also, the one time she drank wine at her father's party, she started confessing her love to her father's friend, a 34-year-old Muggle with curly brown hair and emerald green eyes. 

It was weird. Mainly because she was only thirteen of age.

Tonight, however, she wanted to get drunk and stoned and disobey everyone. She wanted a taste of fun and joy and self-destruction.

The Room of Requirement was filled with smoke and fog coming from people's sweat, and the smell of unwashed hair and cigarettes flew straight to Alana's nostrils. She looked around for familiar faces and then she remembered that except for Draco and Blaise, only Pansy and Theo were familiar faces - the others, complete strangers.

She walked closer to the core of the dance floor, searching for the platinum blonde in the boy's hair or the silky black skin that hugged Blaise's skeleton. On her way there, she'd stopped four times to get fresh cups of drinks, each time one would be half-way drank, replacing it with another one.

By the time she saw Malfoy and his friends, she was already tipsy. The smoke she'd inhaled on her way there had given her enough diziness, as well as the alcohol she'd voluntarily swallowed. 

"Ally!" shouted Theo and he gestured, with a drink in his hand, for the girl to approach them. He had glitter spread on his cheekbones and his curly hair was just as sweaty as anyone else's in this room. 

"Look who decided to join," Blaise smirked at the girl, then grabbed her fingertips and drew her hand up to his mouth to give it a small peck. Draco grinned.

"Hello," she said, "Anyone know where else I can get one of these?" Alana pointed at the beer in her hands and Draco volunteered to go fetch her one.

She remained there with Blaise and Theo who were laughing on some pop-song playing in the purple-lit room filled with dancing, screaming students. "Come," Theo put his hand out for the girl to grab. 

"Don't you know how to dance, Ivanov?" Blaise asked closely to the girl's ear once her body was between the boys's. She looked at Theo first and he had a pure smile plastered on his big, plump lips, then, she looked back at Blaise and he had an evil smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. She didn't know who to look at. 

Then, Nott started dancing around her and Blaise, inviting the boy to join as they both started having fun and letting the girl watch. Tipsy as she was, Alana started laughing at the two and by the time Draco came back, she was also dancing with the Slytherins. The witch actually felt good, which was new to her, for lately she'd been miserable with her thoughts only.

After a few more beers and a few more dances, Pansy Parkinson spoke thorugh the microphone on the opposite side of the room. "It's time to play, ladies and gents'!"

"Play?!" Alana asked and she grabbed Theo by his hand, which quickly gripped it and brought her closer to him. Blaise had his hand on her waist and Draco was behind.

"Don't worry, darling," Theo leaned down to whisper in the girl's ear, "It's a thing we do every year. You'll stay with us, you'll be safe."

She looked up ant Blaise, totally forgetting it was his birthday, and the drunkness in her blood pushed her to go up to him, tug at his shirt and look up straight in to his eyes, "Happy birthday, bitch!"

He got weirded out at first, glanced over at the other two boys which shrugged, then back at the girl with a shy smile, "Thanks, Iv'."

Almost all the students - which were only from year 6 and 7 - were gathered on U-shaped couches around a small table, the music playing quietly on the background, with only torches lit and dim neon lights to reflect on their drunk and stoned faces.

"What are we playing?" Alana sounded silly after those beers, speaking a little twisty.

"Truth or dare," Draco whispered lowly in her ear, then sent her the most icy pair of grey eyes. They reminded her of his father's. She shook the thought away. "You spin the bottle," he continued, "Whoever it lands on has to choose. If they don't accept the truth, for example, they're dared to do something- if they don't agree to that either, they take a long shot."

"Let's see who goes first!" Pansy clapped her hands together then leaned over the table to spin a bottle. It landed directly on Theo. "Theo, you're playing, right? Obviously. Truth or dare?"

Theo was a little tipsy, or stoned. Alana couldn't tell. But his eyes were really small and his cheeks were red and glowed hard. "Dare." 

"Uuu, ice breaker! I dare you to... Show us your orgasm face!" Everyone in the circle started giggling, but the girls seemed to be actually into it. Theo looked around, not nervously but amused. The alcohol had probably kicked in.

He then shrugged, then proceeded to lean on his back, open his mouth and bite his lip, then close his eyes and let out a lud moan. Draco chose to look away for the sake of not having nightmares of his best friend orgasming, and Blaise laughed so hard beer came out of his nose. Alana's cheeks turned an odd shade of red before she could finally unglue her eyes from the boy's face. 

"Not bad, Nott," Pansy had a raspy voice and winked towards the boy beside Alana. 

Theo raised his eyebrows sugestivelly, "Next time you should be the one makin' it happen, girl." 

How could someone's personality change so much after a couple shots and a dozen beers?

"Your turn," said Pansy, "Spin the bottle."

The boy leaned over and spinned the bottle, this time landing right next to Alana - Draco.

"Truth or dare, mate?" 

Draco put his beer down for this one and sat with his elbows resting on his knees. "Truth."

Theo smirked, "Is it true you want to make out with me?" He spoke in a very sheepish and joking voice, almost making Draco blush.

"Ever since I met you, Nott." Draco said back and they winked towards each other before Draco spinned the bottle and it landed on Blaise. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare, obviously," the boy opposite of Alana rolled his eyes. 

"I dare you to..." Draco looked around the room, searching for a dare to give his friend, "Make out with Weaslette Ginerva."

Alana almost choked on her drink before her eyes darted at Ginny Weasley who was wide-eyed and red-faced, her eyes glued to the Slytherins as Draco smirked like the little evil he was. No one said a word, except for Blaise. 

"If you want it, come and get it." The boy stood up and walked towards Ginny, whose hand was tightly gripping onto her cup and whose body started trembling more and more each step the boy took. Once he reached her, he attacked her lips with his and gave her the most tongue Alana's seen in a while. With the sloppy sounds and all.

"Alright, alright. Next!" Pansy was eager to who the bottle would land on next, so Blaise went back to his seat, leaving Ginny speechless and standing, her eyes closed and mouth O-shaped. Blaise spinned the bottle and...

"Ally-Al." Blaise's rough, husky voice almost woke up the witch from the drunk trance. She looked up from the cup she was holding with a tipsy smile and tired eyes. "Truth or dare?" 

She thought for a second. "Dare."

"I dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room."

The beer she'd drank came back to her throat, but she swallowed it back and looked around. Person. Draco must've thought it was him, for the nastiest, proudest grin came to his lips, just like with Blaise. Person. It doesn't have to be a boy. Ginny was pretty hot, she had the tits and big lips and all, straight out of a porn movie. Pansy too, only it was too hard for Alana to admit it since she was such a bitch all the time and she hated every single bit of it. But she had that bob haircut and bangs and black lipstick. 

The boys... Meh.

Blaise was too proud of his appearence, which annoyed Alana the most. For whtever reason, she wished he lacked some so she could give him the compliments he deserved without feeding his ego. Draco was as good-looking as you'd think - he had the oddly long limbs, pale face and dead eyes, similar to a corpse, and he had this sick voice that sent shivers down the girl's spine. 

But he wasn't Lucius, was he? He didn't have the hair, nor the eyes or nose. He did not posses the posture of a well-grown man and did not walk around with those big palms covered in leather gloves. He did not know his place yet, but Lucius did. Lucius knew his value and price in the world, and knew just how much only a glimpse of him cost someone. He knew his worth. Draco was just... A little boy, after all.

"We're waiting..." Pansy played with her nails and looked at the thoughtful Alana.

With more than a second thought, and perhaps four, or five second thoughts, she looked at the most attractive person in the room. She shrugged, sighed and caused everyone to gasp as she leaned in just a little to tease his bottom lip with the tip of her tongue, then gently and tenderly kiss him with a passionate slop. 

Everyone gasped, including him. But as soon as he realized what was happening, he placed his big, warm hands exactly on each side of her torso, pulled her in and responded frenchly.


	11. Bathrooms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mature content, explicit scenes.

"Out of all people, Theodore fucking Nott. Who would've thought?" Pansy raised her eyebrows suggestively after Alana and Theo's steamy make-out sesh. 

Blaise was in shock and Draco seemed hurt. Theodore was smirking, yet inside, he felt a burning sensation to ask her why. Why him? He wasn't even blonde, nor dark-skinned, nor muscular or confident in himself. He was nothing Blaise and Draco were, separately or together.

It was obvious, though. Out of all the boys in the room, he was the only one who wasn't swimming in pride and cockiness. Also, he had this vibe to himself that simply couldn't keep the girls away. There was no over the top masculinity in him, no overwhelming attitude and lastly, he didn't seem to aknowledge his hotness.

"It didn't cross my mind once," Theodore's low voice made Alana gulp, and he licked his lips to get one last taste of her. He looked absolutely and breath-takingly gorgeous, and Alana's drunkness made her realize that maybe, one's personality can change so may things about their looks, for before this night she'd thought Blaise was the hottest boy at Hogwarts, yet after those days at the library, she'd changed her mind 180 degreees.

"Well," Alana put her hand on Theodore's chest, involuntarily... Or voluntarily feeling his worked-out yet thin pectorals through his thin shirt then helping herself up. "As much as I'd like to have your tongue down my throat, a girl needs to pee."

Theodore laughed at the witch's comment. "Need any help?" He bit down onto his lower lip and looked her up and down once she was standing with her knees between his. 

"Another time," she rolled out of her tongue before leaving the group to play without her. On her way to the bathroom she could feel the ground spinning with her on top of it, and she swore she could hear the music getting slower and slower until it stopped. Perhaps kissing Theodore wasn't a good idea, but hopefully, he'd have forgotten it the next day. 

That didn't mean the others would be forgetting it, though. It would be nice to obliviate them all, but since casting spells on other students wasn't exactly legal, Alana let the thought slip through the others and entered the bathroom placed at the very corner of the Room of Requirement. 

She entered a hall, did her business, then came back to the sinks to wash her face in hope to wake herself up a little. The witch shut her eyes and splashed ice cold water to her face before straightning her back and jumping at the sight of mister Malfoy in the mirror.

"Holy s-" she shut her mouth once she remembered it was not okay to speak like that in front of the man. "I'm starting to think you're a, like, a ghost. There's no way you came in here without any student seeing you, they always keep an eye out for-"

"Miss Ivanov, you do know that I am able to apparate, don't you?" His voice was lower than usual, and he was without his cane. He seemed to be wearing a different outfit - a more elegant suit, and his hair was combed back very slickly. 

She nodded. "Yes, sir, very much aware. You do know I am prone to heart attacks when fourty-year-olds apparate behind me in a bathroom in the middle of night, aren't you, mister?" 

At Alana's silly question, Lucius chuckled. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

"How did you know where I was?" 

The girl's lips held an odd smile Lucius wasn't familiar with, letting him know she'd consumed alcohol. "I have a specialty of being able to apparate where people are. I thought of you and apparted here. Wherever you'd have been, I could've reached you."

I thought of you. "You thought of me?" giggled the little girl and it made Lucius frown.

"Yes, however else was I supposed to find you?"

"Why did you think of me, Sir?" Alana took a step forward from the sinks, and with her wet face and pink lips, she reached out to touch Lucius's tie. The girl looked up at him through her wet lashes and smiled slightly.

The man coughed once, "I thought I just told you." He took a step back from the girl and shoved his big hands, which were uncovered in leather gloves, into his trousers's pockets. Alana looked down at his trousers and couldn't help but clench her thighs together, imagining whatever was hiding behind the fabric. 

"I don't believe you," she quirkily spoke, and jumped one step closer to Draco's father. Draco, the boy who could've always interrupted them in the bathroom.

Lucius was also at shock and also amused by her attitude, wanting nothing else than to grab her chin and make her behave. "You should. I came here to make sure you're behaving well."

"Well, I'm not behaving," she spoke quickly, and looked up at him with glassy eyes, "I did something really bad."

"Care to be more specific?" Lucius asked, not necessarily worried because if the girl would've had done something bad, he would've been announced, either by the professor or by the paintings he'd asked to keep an eye out for Alana.

The girl looked around the room hazily, the dim neon lights making her eyes water. She spinned once and came back face to face with Lucius. "Do you want me to tell you?" Her voice was playful and Lucius knew exactly what she was onto, but he smiled to hide the other emotions hiding in his body. 

Lucius nodded. "What if I don't want to tell you?" the girl lowered her voice and took a step closer to him, making him choke and cough not uncomfortably, but nervously.

"Then I'll have to ask again..." his voice lowered too.

Her cheeks and ears felt hot and red, and she felt her breath hitch in her chest, before she took one more step until her chest reached his abdomen. "Then ask."

She was one hundred percent aware of what she was doing, for the beer had faded away a few minutes after seeing Lucius behind her. She knew it would be bad to feel tipsy around him so she forced the awakening on herself. But she hoped it would excuse her confidence, the alcohol - she hoped Lucius would know how much she had to drink before, and that he would blame it on the drinking if she did something stupid.

"What did you do, little girl?" Lucius whispered, and his eyes turned a cold shade of dark grey, almost like a lake during the winter, but colder.

Alana smirked, and took a step back. Lucius hoped she wouldn't have. "I kissed a boy," she dreamed of the kiss and it made Lucius frown. 

"Who, exactly?" He would be pissed if he found out it was one of the Weasley's or even mister Potter.

"I'm not telling you." Alana shrugged in her high-pitched voice and doll-like posture. She was wearing the most comfortable-looking clothes, and Lucius knew the girl wasn't wearing them to draw any attention to her, but his eyes couldn't help it. 

Her thighs were so big against each other and he knew that behind that fabric she wore, her breasts were eager and her nipples were hard for him to blow hot air on them. 

"Why are you not telling me?" When the man took a step closer to her, she took a step back. That was his sign that he should not take another step. Still, his breath could touch the girl's forehead as she looked up at him in awe, watching his eyes travel everywhere on her porcelain skin. 

"Because I want you to ask harder." Was that even possible? Her eyes went straight to his greys, and she smiled with them but not with her plump lips, for they were busy thining between her teeth.

For whatever reason, Lucius fell under her spell and couldn't help his throbbing dick to harden under his trousers at the girl's voice. He leaned in closer, without touching her but making sure his voice would brush against her ear. "Who did you kiss, princess?"

She felt his body so close yet not against hers, so she bit her lip and took her heart between her teeth before approaching his hips with hers, finally feeling Lucius. Their abdoments touched as well and she took in the deepest breath she'd ever taken, him doing the exact same thing at the feeling of her belly against his crotch.

"Does it matter?" she whispered in his ear, then raised her palms on his chest to get a look at him. His eyes were glowing in such impatience that he seemed to be exploding soon.

"Well, of course," Lucius reached out to touch her cheek with his thumb before tucking a strand of black hair behind her ear. At the contact of her ear with his fingers he could feel how hot she felt. "And I must demand that you tell me, or else..."

She felt the wetness in her knickers getting hotter, so she wanted to move her hips forward for a little friction, and she grasped onto his forearm, "Or else?"

Lucius's hand traveled behind the girl, avoiding her ass and stretching down to the back of her thigh, where his fingertips started caressing erotically. "Or else I'll have to push it out of you, miss Ivanov." His hand drew invisible, tickling lines up the back of her thigh, on the back of her knee and until the hem of her pleated skirt. She wasn't wearing stockings. "I'll have to make you tell me."

She shut her eyes and was now leaning against the sink and Lucius, as if they were hugging and her left cheek was pressed on his chest. She shut her eyes and imagined they weren't in the bathroom but up at his manor, in his bedroom, on their knees in the middle of his king-sized bed. She imagined his dick was hard and hot against her thighs, and that he would be fingering her from behind. 

"Sir..." she voiced so lowly that Lucius was holding everything in so hardly. He looked at her in the mirror, seeing her back and how short that bloody skirt was, and he let his fingers grab the hem of her skirt, raising it up a little so he could see at least the beginning of her asscheeks, but instead, he saw her knickers, pink ones with lace ribbons, and his cock pushed hardly against her belly.

"What is it, darling?" asked Lucius.

She had her eyes shut and his were wide open, looking at the girl even if she didn't know, looking at her butt's reflection in the mirror, and looking at how she was leaning innocently against his chest, and his hand clutched her ass-cheek, spreading it so her knickers would be the only fabric in his eyesight's way of seeing her wet sex.

"Do it, Sir-" she spit out rather quickly, "Make me."

Lucius's eyes glistened with glimpses of her screaming his name, and he saw the girl looking up at him from where she was, just as he let his middle fingertip draw a line from her clit to her entrance, and she was so wet even through the fabric, letting out the most attractive and erotic moan slip out from between her lips. 

"Patience, sweetheart." 

Lucius vanished from her sight in less than a second, waking her up from her trance completely and leaving her all alone in the middle of the steamy bathroom.


	12. Theodore

Alana was sat at her desk on Friday, two weeks after the party, thinking about her parents. Thinking about her mother and how she must be feeling in that terrifying place. Thinking about how her hands would go from soft to wrinkly and dry. Thinking about her braids which would've been tangled by now. Thinking about her father. About how his piercings were probably dirty and not taken care of. It was miserable, to imagine your parents living apart from each other yet in the same building, tortured by the thought that they can't see each other, can't hear each other, can't use their magic.

The thoughts were killing her. They couldn't send letters from there, obviously, and couldn't receive them either. They had no idea what was going on with their daughter, but it was probably for the best, like Lucius and Narcissa said. 

Speaking of which, the witch had in her hands a letter that came with a box. Signed Narcissa Malfoy X.

She hadn't opened it because she thought it wasn't for her in the beginning, completely forgetting about the fact that she'd been under their care for almost two months now. It was nearly the end of November, yet the only thing tying her to the Malfoy's were her unexpected meetings with the father and talking, now and then, with the son. Whichever confused her the most.

Alana ripped open the letter and took out the piece of parchment, noticing how beautifully it was splashed with black and silver glitter and had a silk bookmark shaped as a snake attached on the top left corner of it. 

Alana,

This must seem out of the blue for you but I saw, at your house which I visited yesterday, that you had many books in your room. They must be important for a book is the mirror to your soul, as they'd say, so I sent them to you as fast as I could through the Express. 

I'm hoping to hear from you soon, and to hear that you are doing well. I also bought a little gift for you, hope it fits!

Narcissa Malfoy.

The witch frowned at the letter and rushed to open the significantly big box placed at her feet. She'd received it the day before but wasn't sure it was hers to open, but now that she does, the eagerness inside of her could be seen from a mile away. As soon as she ripped open the cartoon box, the impatient girl saw many of her books, written both by muggles and wizards, arranged beautifully and in order by color inside. 

There were over twenty books inside and they weirdly enough happened to be only her favorites. After putting them all in order on her shelf, the witch came back to see whatever hid under a piece of fabric inside the box, so she put it aside and her eyes met the prettiest piece of clothing they'd ever seen.

The girl gripped it by the hem and held it out in front of herself, only to see it was a thin-strapped black dress, silky and lacey, short until one palm above the knees and slim-fit. It fits, she thought. Thank you, Miss Malfoy. 

After arranging everything and putting all of these in their place, she lay in her bed with her back presse against the cold wall, looking into the dim light of the chandelier hung by the ceiling. It was a boring Friday night and everyone was sleeping already. The common room was quiet.

Her mind couldn't help but drift off from Narcissa to... Well, her husband. Alana thought about his relationship with his wife, and what gave him the guts to touch her like that just a few nights ago. Wasn't he in love with his wife anymore? Was it simply a facade?

But more importantly, had it been, perhaps, inappropriate? Now that the witch thought about it, it was sort of weird that her friend's father touched her so... Intimately. Whilst having a wife at home. Perhaps Lucius took her for granted, perhaps he'd thought she was too drunk to remember it afterwards, but it hadn't been the first time he'd talked to her like that. Or maybe Alana was reading too much between the lines.

It was weird but... She wouldn't have said no if it were to happen again, right where she was. On her bed. Lying down, and having him lay right by her side, in those goddamn suits that made him look so tough and rough. She wondered if he spoke like that in bed with Narcissa, as well. If he spoke dirty, or moaned, or if his dick was curvy or straight. She wondered if his hair would get in his eyes while fucking her, or if he tied it in a ponytail. She wondered if he liked it from behind, or missionary, or if he liked to have her ride him. To hold her by the hips, and move her up and down, forward and backwords so her sex would rub against his belly. 

Alana couldn't shake the thoughts away, so she decided to get up from her bed and see if anyone was in the common room, although she doubted it since it was extremely quiet. She creeped down the stairs and once reaching the main room, she saw the trio; Blaise, Theodore and Draco sitting on the L-shaped sofa and playing a board game.

"Well, hello, hello. First the party, and now the common room- who are you?" Theodore smiled at the girl, talking about the fact that Alana never joined anyone in any extra-cullicular activity, except for Draco when in their fifth or sixth year they'd had to watch over the younger students, or to decorate the Hall for Mabon or Yule. 

"What're you doing to her, Malfoy?" Blaise turned to Draco, causing Draco to turn to the girl. 

"He's not doing anything to me, I'm just... Not in the mood for staying in," she lied and took a seat next to Draco.

"Wanna play?" asked him and she shook her head, telling them how she's not that into board games. "What's up then?"

Although they continued their game, they didn't ignore her which was perfect since she wanted to shake off the dirty thoughts of Lucius roaming her body with his tongue.

"Nothing. Your mother sent me a dress, is there a Ball or something this year that I don't know about?" 

Draco shrugged. "Probably."

"Of course," Theodore said, "Dumbledore said he wanted to host a Yule Ball."

"Isn't that supposed to be a Ball for after the Triwizard Tournament?" the girl asked.

"Yeah, but he said something about this being a dark year or something like that, and how all students deserve to be, like, having fun and stuff." 

Figures. He knew about Alana's situation, he probably felt so bad that he needed to cheer up the entire school. 

"What kind of dress are you wearing?" Nott asked all of a sudden, causing everyone's head to turn to him.

Blaise smirked, "Why? You wanna mentally practice ripping it off every night until then?"

Alana's cheeks turned red.

Theodore rolled his eyes, "No, but maybe we can match. Of course, if you wanna come with me."

In that moment, the witch's eyes shot up at the grinning boy and her lips curved upwards as well. 

"Smooth," Draco whispered. 

They held eye-contact for a split second before Alana nodded. "Sure. It's a sequin, black, slim dress. Backless, thin-strapped and short."

She swore she could hear the three of them gulp at the image of the dress, but the only thing she could focus on was what she would wear on top if she wanted to cover her armpits.

"I'll be wearing a sequin tux then."

After another hour of playing, Draco and Blaise left to go to sleep and Alana was left with Theodore, alone. He was laying on the sofa and scrollig through a Potion's book, before he put it down and looked up at the girl. He had the most gorgeously painted pair of black eyes, and his eyebrows were gorgeous and big, and his hair curly and brown. He looked like he could model for magazines. Dirty ones.

"You excited?" he asked all of a sudden, confusing Alana.

"For...?"

"Your... Birthday? It's next month, right?" The boy cocked an eyebrow in her direction, "Aren't you turning 18?"

Oh, that. Of course. She almost forgot. "Yeah, I am. Why would I be excited, though? It's... Just anoher birthday."

Usually birthdays for Alana went like this: wake up, receive a congratulation from dad and one from mom, go to sleep until night-time, eat chocolate cake, receive a hug from each parent, then go back to sleep. Then, they'd get mad at her for not washing the cake plates and they'd force her to sleep in the barn outside, if lucky.

She wasn't glad they weren't there, though.

"No way, you're turning 18." He came closer to her, put his book down completely and smiled widely. "Like, you're gonna be an adult." I'm finally leaving the Malfoy's. "And you're gonna be legal, you're gonna drink and smoke and have fun all day and all night."

You can put it like that.

"We'll see. I don't know if I'm that kind of person. I don't like celebrating that much." Alana shrugged. "Are you 18?"

"Yep."

"When was your birthday? In the summer?" the girl furrowed her eyebrows together.

"First day of school," he chuckled. 

"And how come we didn't celebrate your birthday?" she curiously asked, leaning in for a little and accidentally taking in the fragrance he held on his body; maple syrup, cinammon and lavender incense.

Theodore licked his lips, shrugged oh-so-elegantly, then spoke, "Maybe I don't like celebrating that much either." 

Alana rolled her eyes, "Well, we should have." 

"I celebrated in the bathrooms of the Express with the boys but you didn't heard that from me," he smirked. 

"What, like a three-some?" That looked fantastic in Alana's head.

He laughed charmingly, "No, like, lines of Muggle shit that get you fucked up and dizzy. Don't tell Malfoy or Blaise about it, though, I told them it was some magic sugar they never heard of. If I'd told them it was Muggle-made they would've ripped my head off and shove it up my ass as a birthday present."

Alana shrugged. The whole Muggle hatred was irrelevant to her. "I'm not going to. They're hypocrites."

Theodore must've been the only Slytherin she's ever heard to speak decently of Muggles. He was also the kind of Slytherin who wouldn't let the name of his house define his life-long personality. He was one of a kind, unique and special. Not like other boys. He didn't need his friends, didn't need approval or validation - he knew exactly what he wanted and he got it. He just liked to mess around, most likely to lose time and have fun. His grades were always the highest after Alana and ever since fifth year she'd wondered why he hadn't gotten the Prefect position.

"You know, I have to ask you something and I hope it won't affect our... Thing, or something." 

Alana frowned at his question. "Go ahead." Was he about to confess that he'd murdered someone? 

He was hesitating at first, and was a little creeped out by the girl's intense stare, but then he shook his head and gulped. "You know I'm... Into boys, right?"

At that point, Alana's eyes widened. She hadn't known, but it wasn't something that would've affected their thing. He didn't seem like it, either, but then again, how did a person who liked boys look, and how did a person who liked girls differ from that? He did have an earring in his left ear, but she always thought that maybe it was his way of showing people how badass he was. He was quiet and introverted but at the same time cocky and ballsy, but it didn't once occur to Alana that he was into boys.

"And, you're telling me this... Because..."

"Well- I don't want you to, like, see me another way, you know? I don't want you to like, fall for me or something. I mean, I liked girls too- But not as much as I do boys, you know-" he started rambling, "Like, girls are pretty, don't get me wrong, like, I loved to make-out with you and I got hard and all-" Wait, what- "-but, I'm still, like, romantically attracted to men. Like, of any age. I mean, they're hot and tall and dumb, and I'd rather marry one of them than a woman. If you wanna fuck I'm up to that, you know-"

"Hold up," Alana put her hands on his cheset, "Slow down. Am I the first person you're coming out to?" Please say no, please say no. Alana didn't want to have to deal with such a thing - with hiding it from other people-

"Sort of. But I think everyone knows."

"How would they know?" she asked.

Theodore had a werided out look plastered on his face. "Uhm... Have you... Seen me?"

"Yes?" You're gorgeous. You have the hair, the pretty face, the earring, the rings, the long neck and clear skin, the nice, long words, the style, you're always on time and always know what to say, you're nice- "Oh."

"Yeah," he responded back, "I thought it was obvious-"

"I never thought about it," she said, "Now... Yeah. Sorry." The girl looked down and started fidgeting her fingers in her lap.

"Do you still wanna go to the dance with me?" When Alana heard his question, she looked up at him only to be revealed the biggest puppy eyes she'd ever seen. 

"Why wouldn't I?" she involuntarily placed her palm on his forearm but didn't withdraw it after he smiled and put his palm right on top of hers. "Dances aren't only for romantic partners, you know?" Then, she smiled right back at him and stood up to go back to her dorm.

"We can still fuck if you want to-"

"Goodnight, Theo."


	13. Kisses

"You're turning 18," Alana kept repeating to herself in the mirror, hardly believing herself. The years had passed vastly too fast-moving, and the only way she could make people think she was indeed of that age was through her appearence, for if she were to list a few of the memorable things she'd done... It would probably be empty.

In these eighteen years of life she'd lived, the young witch couldn't recall going on a road trip with her friends, or a concert, or writing a book of her own. She couldn't recall summer loving, an unintentional love-story, something to make her believe it was all worth it.

All she was left with was a heartbreak, an empty heart and thoughtful mind.

Everything she stood for was gone much like her parents, locked away from her for eternity. She kept thinking about it and there was only one person to blame; Draco Malfoy, except she knew that all of the things he'd done hadn't been done with bad intentions.

There were only a few weeks left of her life as a seventeen-year-old, only a few days left until she was completely and utterly on her own, completely responsible for her own doings and, well, completely lonely. She will enter adult-life with her family separated from herself and absolutely no plans for the future, no friends, no sweet memories. 

But there was still something exciting about the fact that she would finally turn eighteen, she just didn't know why. She was English, so of course, drinking or smoking would not be something she hadn't done before, but still, the recklessness of someone that had to be careful of their action winked at the witch, for she wanted to do so many bad things yet be aware of how much trouble she could get into for it. She wanted to live her life to the fullest, yet on the edge.

"Knock-knock." A voice interrupted her overthinking, so Alana quickly turned around from her mirror and was quite startled at the sight of Draco himself. 

Her eyes rolled at the back of her head. "Saying knock-knock is not the same thing as actually knocking, you know?" The witch used her irritated and bothered voice, eyeing Draco leaning against the doorway and crossing his arms against his chest.

"You're not naked, are you?" joked him.

Alana looked down at her fully-clothed body. "Obviously not. But I could be." At her response, the wizard rolled his eyes and stepped into her dorm. "Come in," the girl continued sarcastically.

"As much as I'd like to talk of you and the idea of nakedness, I'm here with other business. Did you somehow... Forget, if possible, that you are the girl Prefect of our House?" As soon as he spoke, she mentally facepalmed herself.

A sigh escaped Alana's lips. "Why are you asking?"

"Well, dear, as you well know, Prefects of each house have duties around the castle, such as watch the younger students, watch the library, the lavatories... Have you been doing those things since you got back?"

"You know the answer, Malfoy," Alana crossed her arms against her chest. "Am I in trouble? Did Professor Snape ask for me...?"

He licked his lips, clenches his jaw then shoved his big palms into his pockets, "No, he didn't. I just wanted to announce that starting tomorrow night I won't be able to cover for you anymore, so you better get going with it."

The witch's eyebrows furrowed together, creating a dip to form between them. "Have you been covering for me all this time?" There was a hue of irony in her voice and the boy rolled his eyes again. 

"Well, yes, I figured the deal with my father and your pals is eating your energy so, I didn't mention it. But I have better things to do, so..."

"The deal with your father...?" Alana gulped. 

"Oh- The fact that he doesn't really swallow the idea of you under our name and...?" Draco seemed surprise by the girl's conused face. "At Blaise's birthday I saw you and him in the bathroom, talking- I was too zooted to ask why, but then you kind of stood there for half an hour and didn't come back to dance so I thought... That's what you two were talking. If not, this is really awkward, isn't it..."

Draco had seen her and his father together in the bathroom? Alana was a little worried he might've seen too much, but he surely did not show it. She tried covering for herself, so she shook her head. "Oh- Yes, of course. It sucks, but it is what it is. Listen-" She started pushing him outside her dorm. "I'll catch up with you at supper, alright? I have to- Uh, well, I'll see you." Then she shut the door straight in his face and pressed her back against it, exhaling in relief.

It overwhelmed her, the fact that Draco could've seen her flushed face and her closure with his father. It wasn't like they'd done anything but after all, it looked just a little weird, right? A fourty-year-old brushing the hair out of a seventeen-year-old's face. 

Alana's mind flew straight to Lucius, and she wondered how stupid she had been for letting herself speak so flirty with him under the influence of not so many beers. She truly was disgusted with herself, for letting such an old man touch her like that... For behaving so cheekily with the man who frightened and detested her the most. The witch was sure that in his eyes she was just another stupid girl who he could take advantage of easily. 

How could she not? She let him do anything, basically, but the question was why hadn't he done more?

Patience, he'd whispered. But patience for what? He'd vanished from her sight before finishing his sentence. He could apparate here in less than a millisecond, which was both impressing and creepy; Alana had to take a second look across the room to make sure the old man wasn't hiding behind a closet or anywhere else.

Fortunalty, he wasn't. She was all alone and thinking of her mate's father. Thinking about the way only his thumb caused such dampness between her legs, and how hot her body was under only his eyes and not his touch. She imagined how it must feel to have him on top of her, to have his palm raised to her throat, to feel him everywhere on her body. 

Then she imagined how sick and idiotic her mind could be, he was probably older than her father and she was having erotic daydreams about him. How could she not, after she had let him touch her the slightest but had enjoyed it the greatest? Only a fingertip of his brushed against her heat yet it had made her wish of so much more to happen. 

Was she disgusting? For hoping to catch a glimpse of him in the library again? Or to have him in the next party's bathroom? For sure she was, because girls her age were supposed to fall in love with young boys- like Blaise or Draco, or even better Theodore, if he weren't into boys. 

Perhaps that was the reason why Alana hadn't a boyfriend for the entirety of her life. Perhaps she wasn't attracted to boys of her own age, boys that were practically amateurs. Perhaps she liked men.

Only the last sentence in her thoughts made her gag. The image of her marrying a dying grandfather popped in her head, then, the disgusted and weirded out looks on people's faces. 

But there was no such thing as a future for her and a man. For Lord's sake, she was a seventeen-year-old students without a planned future and a desire to hex each person who looked at her. No one could ever fall in love with her.

No one would have ever wished to have a future beside her.

Then she thought about the day Draco had kissed her. Now you know why. His silky smooth shouting played in her head like a song as she let her eyes look out the window, mindlessly, and she wondered what could have been the reasons behind his need to kiss her. Perhaps he was fooling around, or perhaps he felt bad for her for the situation she was in. However, Alana was one hundred percent sure he wasn't in love with her. 

No one could ever be.

Not him, not beautiful boys her age, not men, not anyone. Because as much as he'd like to hide it, she was one of the meanest, rudest and awkwardest girls to exist, and if anyone was to be in love with her, they'd be plain stupid people. One of them was not Draco Malfoy. He wasn't stupid, he was... At this point she didn't know what to call him. Confused? Perhaps he was gay too, and wanted to experience heterosexualiy on Alana's lips. It couldn't have been that though. Alana might have been lonely and quiet, but she did have eyes after all. Eyes that had seen each time Draco would come in the Great Hall holding the hand of a different girl each week, or eyes that had seen oh-so-many hickeys on his pale freckled neck. Too many details screaming straight.

Then why kiss Alana? Out of all people, the girl he'd been hating all those years, the girl who'd been hating him back all this time? The girl who not even two months ago, he had pushed into a wall and called her a slut? 

Next thing she knew, she grabbed her uniform, put it on then hurried down in the Common Room, hoping to see Draco. He wasn't there though, so she left and reached the hallways then began walking quite fast towards the Great Hall where she thought she'd find him. Not there either. If he was skipping lunch, where could he possibly be? Theodore wasn't there either, and neither were Blaise or Pansy. 

Did she miss a Quidditch practice announcement? It couldn't have been that though, Potter and the Weasleys were at their table in the Great Hall, and so where the Professors and the other Quidditch players. Where else could they have gone?

The witch didn't stop looking and started searching for them outside, hoping to see his white hair and Theodore's curls, but they were absolutely nowhere to be seen. 

It was like they disappeared, or something.


	14. Alone

After a week of Prefect duty Alana started showing up to the Great Hall and her classes in sweatpants and hoodies. The professors didn't mind it, she was still the same quiet and intelligent girl, yet Draco and Theodore seemed a little bit weirded out by it. 

"Don't you have something more comfy, Ally?" joked Theo, "Those pants must be so tight and unbearable."

The witch rolled her eyes and ignored his comment. Draco recognized the big, deep and dark circles around her eyes and furrowed his eyebrows together. Though the witch was the exact and total depiction of beauty, she looked out of place with that tiredness plastered to her skin. "Are you getting enough sleep?" Draco asked at the very end of the Potions class, when him, his two friends and Alana were walking out the big doors and marched hungrily towards the dining room.

"Yes," lied her, "Why are you asking?" 

"Well, you look dead-" Blaise was interrupted by Nott sending him a pair of evil eyes. "What?"

The curly-haired boy came up to Alana, starting to walk at her pace. She didn't mind his presence, it was the less annoying one of them all. "You don't look dead," his arm rolled around her waist and they walked together towards the Great Hall.

The truth was, Alana was taking advantage of her role as Prefect and began exploring around the castle more. Sometimes, her three friends would magically disappear into thin air out of her sight and she was bothered that she never knew where they were, although it wasn't exactly her business to begin with. Still, at nights, after checking on the library and the lavatories, Alana walked a bonus walk around the corridors and checked every open door. 

Yet they were nowhere to be found. Not any night.

"Who would've ever known? Nott and Ivanov, together." Blaise smirked from behind the two, and they quickly unwrapped their hands from each other's waists and looked behind at the same time.

"We're not together!" they said.

Draco and Blaise exchanged looks, and so did Theo and Alana before bursting into laughter. "Really?" said Draco with his stern voice and narrowed eyes. "Then what's with the hugging in the Common Room, kissing and holding hands, you non-love-birds? Please."

There was a tone of sassiness in Draco's voice which annoyed Alana, but she kept it together before replying. "We only kissed once, at the party. I was zooted out of this Earth." At the memory of that night, she gulps, knowing how weird it felt to talk about that specific night with Draco. 

"We could always do a sequel if you'd like-" Before Theodore could finish his sentence he was punched in the stomach by no other than Alana.

The students arrived at the Slytherin table where they sat down and everyone proceeded to eat, except for Alana, who'd immediately opened a book and started writing notes on its' pages. Half an hour in, owls started flying in the daylight of the charmed ceiling, dropping into the hands of the students big boxes and bags coming from their homes.

"I forgot all about mail," stated Theodore when a small package arrived into his big palms. He opened it rather quickly and it revealed a black green-dotted neck bow for occasion shirts. 

"What the fuck is that, mate?" Blaise laughed at the piece of clothing the poor boy was holding onto, as in his head fell a paper-bag of some kind, filled with dried lavender and lemon slices.

"It's a papignon." Theodore put the bow to his neck. "Must be from no other than my father with a very, very obvious lack of fashion sense." As soon as he'd finished the sentence he put the bow back in the bag and sealed it close. "What's that?" he pointed to Blaise's bag of herbs.

"Oh- Yule decorations. You know mom, festive little bitch-" Zabini held up a string onto which were attached multiple, dried lemon slices and they looked very inovative and different from what Alana had ever seen. 

"That's nice," muttered her, realizing how much it sucked that she'd never done anything like that with her parents. Christmas was usually the time for wandless magic, and her mother would simply buy the decorations then put them up. No DIY's or mother-daughter bonding time.

"You could have some for your room if you want," chuckled Zabini, "Hell, you can have all of them. I don't really like them. I never did."

A frown appeared on the witch's forehead when her head shook. "No, I'm not taking those, your mother did them for you." 

"It doesn't matter, if you like them you can have 'em."

Did he not care about the fact that his mother had probably spent a lot of time making those? It felt weird to be aware of the fact that some people have everything they need but not cherish it, whereas Alana would like, instead of a garland, a mother to do it with. A mother to spend Yule with.

"Or- I could teach you how to make them?" Theodore's statement sounded more like a question. "Blaise's mother taught me how to do them when I was little, so if you want..." The boy smiled from the opposite side of the table with a questioning smile at the corners of his lips. 

Alana's mouth fet like curling up in a smile as well, but she simply pursed her lips. "Would you really want to teach me?"

Theodore nodded. "Of course! It's not that complicated, and it looks like you really like them, so, of course."

"Even my dead owl knows how to make those," muttered Draco from afar and all heads turned to him. 

Alana rolled her eyes at the wizard's comment and looked away, playing with her fingers on the end of a fork as her eyes landed on a cup of coffee. She took a sip from it, feeling it go down her neck and into her empty stomach clearly, and she thought of how lucky she was to had met Theodore- he was nice like no other Slytherin, and she felt like there was going to be a very good and long-lasting friendship between them.

As owls were still flying in the day-sky, a box suddenly fell into Alana's full plate of mashed potatoes and cucumber salad. Her eyes narrowed.

"Who could that be from?" Blaise asked. 

She was wondering just the same thing. The box seemed different than the cartoon one Narcissa sent her the books and the dress in, and it hugged a different fragrance - a more sharp one unlike Narcissa's sweet perfume. 

It was a full black box, yet it was sealed on the edges so it couldn't be opened, tied with a white ribbon and accompanied by a big, white feather. It wasn't a pen, just a feather.

Alana got a hold of it, inspecting it as it rested into her palm, for perhaps there was something special about the feather, yet it did nothing as it touched the human skin. There were no stains, nor songs sang. Nothing. It was simply a plain feather.

Draco eyed the box as well, wondering who it could be from. "Maybe it's your stuff from your house."

Alana nodded. Maybe that's what it was. On the side of the box was a very small, almost invizible, white piece of parchment which read 'Open when not surrounded by stupid students.'

That was her cue not to open it where she currently was, so, when all four students were on their way to their next class with Professor Trelawney, Alana made the excuse that she forgot her wand in her dorm, only to go up there and sit down on the edge of her bed.

As soon as she was sat, the box unsealed its' edges and corners, the ribbon undoing itself as she was finally able to open the box. The witch took down the upper side of the box, leaving it beside her, then she took off the thin paper covering whatever was inside and...

"What. The. Fuck." 

She took out the two pieces of clothing, revealing themselves to be two pieces of a white laced undergarment, one that had a thin-strapped bralette with straps going down the waist and until the- 

Who even was it from?

The witch looked further into the box, noticing there was another piece of material hiding at the very bottoom of it. After taking it out, the witch spread it on her bed to reveal on of the most beautiful dresses she'd ever seen- One made entirely of black material, many layers and short-sleeves. It seemed to be out of a fantasy book, it seemed to be royal, and it was long until the floor, covering almost the entire bed with its' multiple dark layers. (i will insert a photo of the dress on the night she's going to wear it)

Alana's heart fell on the floor. Who could've sent her this? It was the prettiest and most gorgeous dress she'd ever seen, straight out of a vampire book. It was dark, and against her skin it would look absolutely gorgeous. 

Inside of the box there was a smaller box the witch already felt ashamed to grab onto, but when she finally did, there was something about the material that made her fingertips tingle. It was a soft, black velvet box, with the initial M carved with silver into the right corner of it. Could it have been Narcissa?

Opening the box, in front of the witch's eyes was revealed... Something. Something black, and it looked gelly. At touch it felt like fish scales, but after grabbing onto it, it unlashed into a long, black snake. A fake one, obviousy, but it seemed so real. 

She hid the box underneath her bed rather quickly. One advantage Alana had was that the girls she shared her dorm with weren't at all nosy - actually, she didn't even know them that well. After making sure the box was hid perfectly, she performed wandless magic to fold the dress perfectly into her closet, yet as soon as the doors closed, a small envelope fell from inside the dress. A black envelope.

The witch picked it up and headed to bed again, where she sat down and opened it carefully so it wouldn't rip. She liked holding onto old envelopes and letters. 

Alana,

I was informed there would be a Yule Ball happening. As you are unfortunately still member of the family, I would appreciate it if you showed up decent and clean. This is for you, hand-made by the greatest designer of England. There will be jewelry to accompany. As for the undergarments, it's always necessary for a lady to be presentable underneath, for beauty and elegance does not mean only looking good on the outside but as well on the inside. 

As for you birthday, Narcissa insists that you come to the Malfoy Manor with your friends for supper, and then you have the West Wing to yourself for dancing. I expect you write back to us when you make up your mind. Not over twenty people allowed, though.

Lucius Malfoy.

Alana threw the note under her pillow before puffing her cheeks. Not over twenty people, yet he struggles to figure out if she can call one her friend. It was rather sad to think of, but it was, after all, true. She had only one person she could barely call her friend, and it was Theodore Nott. Except for him, Draco and Blaise were a next level of annoyance and overflowing masculinity. 

For the first time in her life, Alana, the girl you'd least expect to feel this way, had her body filled with lonliness. She felt the lonliness of an orphan, and the coldness of empty space around herself. Blaise and Draco were most likely 'friends' with her because of other reasons than wanting to be just friends, and Theodore was... A more complicated situation. 

Alana was, after all, lonely yet surrounded by way too many people. She was surrounded by the Malfoy's, by Draco's gang and himself, by other Slytherins, yet her body felt cold, and her heart even colder. Was there ever going to be fullfillment for her, too?


	15. Preparations and disappearences

Further into the eleventh month of the year, preparations for Yule began to be done by fourth and fifth years, all supervised by Head students and Prefects, such as Draco and Alana when it came to the Slytherins. 

It was rather entertaining - though Theodore could not accompany her, the witch was excited about spending time with Draco each day, for she realized he was much more fun when he wasn't being a jerk, which meant being surrounded by his friends.

And she wasn't afraid to tell him. "You know, whenever you're around Nott and Zabini you act all cocky, but when we're alone, I admit- You're kinda cool," said Alana, while her wand grabbed the end of a long, white piece of ribbon which she hanged on the walls, which were filled with wreaths, snowglobes, jingles and garlands. Draco was, at the time, spreading snowflakes and glitter on top of the torches, to make them shine magically with sparkles.

"Nonsense," muttered him, caught up in his job. 

They didn't have to help the younger students, but it was more productive than sitting around and trying to avoid the awkward silence. As much as Alana wanted not to feel the strangeness going on between them, she couldn't.

"Not nonsense."

Draco finished his sparkles at the same time Alana finished hanging the ribbon on the wall, so they both had to go to the big table in the middle of the Great Hall to gather other decorations. "Or maybe you simply don't pay enough attention to me because you're all heart-shaped eyes for Nott."

As soon as the words left his mouth, the girl frowned. "Am not. Why would I be?"

Draco rolled his eyes as a response. "You can't fool me, Ally. Although I'd advise you to take care, Theodore is... Not who he pretends to be." Draco's voice was low and serious, but Alana looked at him in amusement.

"If you're refering to the fact that he's gay, I already know!"

Draco stopped on his heels and quickly turned to the Prefect. "I didn't know you knew."

Alana crossed her arms against her chest, with her lips curved in a smirk. "He told me himself." At her words Draco opened his eyes even wider. "What?"

He spoke loudly, "I didn't know he knew!"

The witch looked around to see all the younger students oddly staring at the boy in front of her. "Get back to work," she said in a more serious tone then turned back to Malfoy. "I think everyone knows, Draco. Also, I'm not interested in him like that."

"Really? You two seem... Weirdly close. I mean, you always sit next to him during classes, you always pass notes- And did I mention he wants to teach you how to make Yule decorations that you can by for half a galleon on Diagon Alley?"

"Have you ever heard of a... Friendship?"

Draco rolled his eyes once again, "I don't believe anyone could be just friends with you." This time his words came out in a more serious and low tone, voice hugged in raspiness like honey on bread, and Alana was a little confused. 

She didn't speak at first, not knowing how to respond and what to say. His comment sounded dull, but was filled with meaning, one which only he knew. 

Draco ignored her silence and got back to whatever he was doing before, but Alana followed him quietly with her own duty of continuing to hang ribbons on the walls. "You know- Your father told me to celebrate my birthday at your Manor. Do you think it'll turn out alright if I did?"

The boy turned to Alana and shrugged. "Yeah, it's alright. The West Wing of the Manor is really fit for a party."

"Yeah, he told me- He owled me a couple of days ago, told me I could use the West Wing for dancing and stuff."

"He owled you?"

Alana nodded, and hoped it wouldn't sound or seem weird. "Yeah, why?"

He simply shrugged, "He never owls me," the blondie chuckled. "It'll be cool, we can bring Zabini and Nott, they know how to have fun. Is this really what you want to do for your 18th birthday?"

Alana didn't have any other friends to celebrate with so it was the only choice she had, or else she would spend her night in her dorm, doing absolutely nothing. "Yeah. I don't... Really have any other plans, or people to make plans with.

Draco found it strange - the fact that one of the prettiest and coolest girls in the building wasn't surrounded by people. But at the same time, she wasn't exactly showing off her good side, which was the main reason people avoided talking to her or even looking her way. Alana was always quiet, serious and expressionless, not inviting anyone in or letting anyone come near her.

It was sad.

She liked the alone time. Not the lonely part, but the time she had alone, the time she could spend thinking about her past, present and future, or the time she could simply sip on a coffee and look out the window and create scenarios in her head - impossible ones, in which her parents were free and doing well.

She coughed. "I think we can skip supper, though, right? It's not that fun to eat... I don't want to spend my 18th birthday having to listen to everyone chew."

The boy looked her way with an amused smile. "I guess. Our elves cook really good though."

"Even better!" said her, using her wand to create a tree out of a green ribbon, then hanging it on the wall. "I don't support the ownership of house elves."

At her statement, Draco frowned for the milionth time that day. "That's rubbish," the boy chuckld sheepishly, "House elves are essential. Especially in our Manor, not even ten wizards could clean the entirety of the first floor in one week."

The Slytherin girl rolled her eyes at Draco's idiotic and arrogant statement. "If you wouldn't be such a pureblood supremacist and actually were interested in Muggle history, you'd understand my point-" Her words were interrupted by a long, painful sigh. 

"And suddenly, you lost my interest," the boy's lips curved into a fake smile, after which he left Alana to sit alone in the corner of the Hall with her wand rolling through her fingers. 

The girl looked around to see that the Great Hall was ready for the day - not yet decorated for the Yule Ball, but for the months of November, December and January in a wintery mood. This meant that Alana had no other duties around, and, after waiting for all of the students to leave the Hall and go to their common rooms, she left as well, on her duty to check the girls' lavatories.

Before leaving the Great Hall, she had looked back for Draco but he was already gone. Quickly, the girl checked her wrist watch, which read only 7:55 pm; way too early for him to return back to his dorm, which meant he was on his Prefect duty as well, or vanishing with his gang until the morning.

Alana didn't mind. It had become a nightly tradition for them to go missing at the exact same time, leaving no trace, goodbye or clue as if to where they went, but also, she had no right to wonder because it wasn't at all her business - they weren't her friends. Not even remotely close.

The lavatories were checked rather quickly followed by the library. Finding herself in the doorway of the library, Alana decided to step in and spend some time in the dim light of the candles, perhaps pick up a book and drown herself into it for a while. No one was there for the curfew was 8 pm, so she was about to be the most alone she had been in a long time - exactly what she wished for.

The Slytherin walked to the very back of the library, specifically where a bookshelf separated that section from the rest of the library and she was not to be seen if anyone looked inside. She ploped herself down on the floor, not caring about her grey sweatpants getting dirty or filled with dust, and picked up a random book from above her head before opening it. 

It was useless, for her eyes would move across the pages yet not read a single word - the girl was thinking about her parents again. Thinking whether or not they were alright, healthy and warm. They should've been home. Alana should have been waiting eagerly for the Holiday break, to go home to them and spend Yule doing nothing, but being together. It's only now that she realized how much someone's presence or absence impacted their life, because it would've been so much better if she were with them, even if they wouldn't have been talking. She only wanted to feel them there. In the same room, or even building. 

But instead, they were off in a prison secluded from population, in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by cemented walls and thin clothing and dirt and criminals. 

There was only herself to blaim for her bad mood, but as soon as she lifted her head from the book, the witch was hit by wondering thoughts of the boys. Theodore, Blaise and Draco and their whereabouts. She wondered where they disappeared to every night, and most of all, how they covered their vanishing.

Annoyed by the quiestions eating her inside out, Alana stood up and headed for the exit of the library, ready to go out and look for them.

Only if it weren't for the one and only Severus Snape waiting for her in the doorway and questioning her himself, "Going somewhere?"


End file.
